


Rocky Road

by QLD



Series: The Life and Times of Greg Lestrade [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drama, F/M, Gen, Hurt Lestrade, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Romance, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:48:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 88,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1585571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QLD/pseuds/QLD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestrade finally had the guts to ask Molly out, just one more routine interview to go and he would be on his way to pick her up. Little did he know that his life will soon turn into hell.<br/>After getting shot Gregory Lestrade has to fight hard to return to his old life. Molly and his friends try their best to support him but it's a long and rocky road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a Sherlock Fanfic. English is my second language so I'm sorry for any mistakes ;) But please do comment, I'd love to hear what you think about it. This had been a WiP. It's now finished and is part of a series where I will write more stories about Lestrade's life. With and without Molly ;)

It was a good day. Greg Lestrade was looking forward to his date in the evening. Finally, after that whole disaster with his wife, ex wife he reminded himself, he had the guts to ask Molly out. He was slightly surprised when she actually said yes. He had liked her for quite a while but had always thought that he would never have a chance with her. But now it was just one more routine interview to go and then he'll soon be on his way to pick her up. Little did Lestrade know, that in a blink of an eye this day will become hell.

The guy he was interviewing wasn't their prime suspect, he only had some questions regarding the victim. Sherlock had deduced that the victim had an affair with one Leroy Greydon and that he was one of the persons who saw her last.  
The Interview should be over quick. He had left Sherlock and John at the Yard. He would fill them in later.  
Greg rang the doorbell and a couple of minutes later a middle aged man opened the door.   
"Mr. Greydon?" Greg asked.  
"Yes," Greydon replied, looking at Greg sceptically, "how can I help you?"  
"I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade from Scotland Yard," Greg introduced himself and showed Greydon his warrant card. "I have a couple of question, may I come in?"  
“Please, do come in Detective Inspector” Greydon said and stepped aside to let Greg pass. “Do you want a cup of tea or something?” He asked while closing the door, showing Greg the way to the living room. “After you.”  
“No, thanks” Greg reclined politely. He only had a couple of questions and didn't want to stay longer than necessary. “Mr. Greydon, regarding your rela....” he didn't get any further.  
Something hard hit him on the back of his head. His vision got blurry and he had to use all of his strength to not pass out.  
Clinging to the side of the wall Greg tried to reach his Baton but he was too slow. Another blow to the side of his head made him loose all of his remaining strength and his legs gave away.  
He slit to the floor nearly passing out and while he was trying to fight the black spots that kept dancing before his eyes he saw Greydon stepping over him walking out of Greg's sight.  
He heard a door close, assumed that Greydon fled the scene and therefore allowed himself a couple of minutes to become fully aware.

”Fuck!” Greg thought.  
He pulled himself up, trying to ignore the spinning room and the pain in his head. He could feel blood running down his face from a cut above the eyebrow.  
“Fuck!” He leaned onto the wall, fumbling for his mobile. It took him quiet a while but finally he was able to take one hand off the wall without having to fear to fall over. He dialled Donovan's number to let her know about this whole disaster and that she must conduct a search for Greydon asap.  
Greg put the mobile to his ear and waited.  
“Hey Lestrade,” he heard a female voice on the other end of the line,“Interview over, Boss?”   
Greg breathed through the pain. He was about to answer when he heard a car pulling up outside the house. “Shit!” Greg thought, realizing that it most likely was Greydon returning for whatever reason. Probably to dispose his body.   
Now he had to act quick. He didn't hear any car doors or the front door being opened so he still had some time.  
“Donovan, listen. I'm at Greydon's. Sherlock knows. He attacked me. Greydon. I'm fine, though. He left but I think he's coming back. I need backup right away! I need to get out of here or hide or what ever” Looking around for a way out he noticed that he was rambling.”Bloody head wound” Greg thought.  
“Boss are you really okay?" Donovan sounded concerned.  
“Yeah m'fine only got knocked over the head a bit. Bit wobbly but had worse,” he answered while turning and suddenly froze.

Greydon was standing in the hallway holding a gun.  
“Thought I left, did ya? That I would run away?” he asked with an ice cold voice. “Thought you could get away, eh? Too bad for you that I didn't leave the house, just had to search for my old friend here to finish you off”  
And suddenly Greg's world was full of pain. He heard Donovan screaming. He felt three bullets hitting him right in the chest and the stomach. His legs buckled and he hit the floor hard. His mobile slit away from him, Donovan still on the other end of the line, panicking. He felt blood, his blood wetting his shirt and the floor beneath him. Breathing was getting horribly difficult.

Greydon was leaning over him now, grinning. Under normal circumstances Greg would have panicked, would have tried to get away from that madman. But the only thing he was able to do right now was lying still and trying to get some precious oxygen into his lungs. He was on the brink of unconsciousness.   
“Bye bye Pig,” the gun was now aiming at his head.

A single gunshot rang through the house.


	2. Chapter 2

A single gunshot rang through the house.

Death wasn't as painless as he expected it to be, Greg thought.   
It seemed that the weight on his chest had just increased. Pain flared through his abdomen and chest. Every breath he took was getting more and more painful, harder and were delivering him less and less oxygen. He thought of giving it up altogether, maybe that would give him some deserved comfort.

Suddenly he heard a well known, voice. “Lestrade, open you eyes, can you do that for me? You've gotta stay awake and keep breathing”.  
"John? What was John doing here?" Greg wondered while he tried to open eyelids that suddenly felt like they where made of concrete. He really tried but he had no strength at all. The solely task of breathing was using all of his stamina.   
“Come on, Lestrade, help is here soon. Stay with us”   
Greg felt himself drifting away. He turned his head towards the voice and tried to ask John why he was here, warn him about Greydon but the words where lost in a wet cough and Greg could feel something warm and wet running from the corner of his mouth, tasting the tale tell tang of copper in his mouth.   
“Shhh, don't try to talk, just concentrate on breathing, everything's fine. Greydon's been taken care of.”

“Sherlock, give me your coat and hold Lestrade's hand, talk to him, say anything to comfort him” John shouted to Sherlock, who was leaning over Greydon, inspecting the bullet hole in the back of his head.  
Greg felt his hand being picked up, being hold tight and that gave him some slight comfort. It was his last connection to the real world while his body got weaker and weaker and he could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness. He listened to Sherlock blabbering away, what an idiot he is going in here alone without checking Greydon's background, that John had made Sherlock talk to Sally on his phone and that she is on her way..."  
Sherlock's voice slowly faded away and while he was really trying to hold onto this lifeline, fighting to get some precious oxygen into his lungs had now become a nearly impossible task.  
The last thing Greg remembered before passing out was John reassuring him that everything is fine and that he'll be as good as new in no time.

John knew it was a lie. Lestrade would have a hell of a recovery if he would even make it. The two bullets that entered the DI's chest have most likely shattered his ribcage and tore through his lungs given the location of the entry wounds and the way Lestrade was breathing . He didn't want to think about the damage the bullet to the abdomen might have done. Wounds to the abdomen were always messy but what frightened him the most was the lack of an exit wound, unlike with the two chest wounds. He knew that it could mean that the bullet was lodged in the DI's spine but he pushed the thought back and applied more pressure to the wounds on Lestrade's stomach and chest, frantically trying to stop the man from bleeding to death.   
He felt a wave of relive when he finally could heard the sirens of an ambulance in the distance. Lestrade's breathing was now virtually non existent and John wasn't sure how long further he could keep him alive without professional equipment.  
“Sherlock, get out and show the medics the way” he said turning to Sherlock who was still holding the DI's hand even after he had long lost consciousness.

As soon as the Paramedics entered the room John filled them in with the status of the patient and while they where cutting away Lestrade's shirt to gain better access to his wounds John sat back and watched them work.  
The paramedics hooked Lestrade up to a heart rate monitor and some IVs and while one medic put an mask on Lestrade's face to help his laboured breathing, the other one performed a chest decompression with a needle thoracostomy to relieve the pressure in Lestrade's chest. John flinched, that didn't look good at all.  
Suddenly he heard an alarming sound from the monitor.  
"Shit,“ one of the medics spat out. "The patient is going into shock. We need to get him to the hospital quickly.“  
"He stopped breathing, give me the intubation kit," the second medic added. A flat tone was now heard from the monitor. "Cardiac arrest! Start CPR!“  
John couldn't bare to watch this. The paramedics were fighting for Lestrade's life. One was applying CPR to his already battered chest while the other one was putting the patches for de-fibrillation on Lestrade's body.  
He had seen scenes like that before, hell he was a doctor he was used to it but this time it was different. The man lying on the floor was his friend.   
"Clear,“ the paramedic shouted before he applied the shock to Lestrade. Both paramedics leaned back and watched the heart monitor.   
Seconds became hours to John but suddenly the confirming noise of a heart beating could be heard form the monitor. Not steady but beating and that was all John needed right now. After the paramedics where sure that their patient was as stable as the would get him at the moment they carefully lifted him onto the stretcher, trying to move his spine as little as possible, and wheeled him out of the house into the waiting ambulance.

John walked over to Sally Donovan who had been standing in the door frame and had watched the medics working on her boss. Police Officers where now swarming the room, photographing every small bit of the crime scene.   
"He'll pull through," he said trying to reassure her.   
She looked at him and he could see that she really wanted to believe him. "His heart stopped, John. He looked so...," her voice broke. John had never seen the normally strong woman so shaken.   
"I know," he looked over where Lestrade's bloodied shirt and coat lay, now accompanied by some numbers put there by the crime scene investigation team. "But they got him back, he's strong."  
Donovan nodded and turned towards one of the Police Officers who had asked her a question. When she turned back to John her face was all professional again. "What are you and the Freak doing here anyway? Lestrade didn't say anything about you being here when he called me."  
"Well Sherlock had a hunch that something was odd about Greydon. And being Sherlock he just couldn't tell Lestrade that over the phone he had to check Greydon out for himself. So we took a taxi and when we arrived here we found Lestrade on the floor, Greydon dead on top of him. No idea what had happened." John said and pushed his old service weapon deeper into his pocket, praying that Donovan wouldn't notice. 


	3. Chapter 3

“Why are the chairs in the waiting areas always so bloody uncomfortable” John thought while he was sitting in one of said uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area of the Trauma ward at the Royal London Hospital. “Isn't it worse enough to know that a loved one is fighting for his life behind these doors.”

When the ambulance had arrived a couple of hours earlier Lestrade was straight brought up to surgery where he still remained.  
After Lestrade's divorce and Sherlock's fall John and Lestrade became quite good friends and being a doctor he had soon put John instead of his ex wife as the emergency contact. Therefore he was able to get some information about the extent of Greg's injuries.  
John shuddered: Multiple Rip fractures, flail chest, pulmonary lacerations to both lungs as well as pulmonary haemorrhage.  
As for the gunshot wound to the abdomen there is a incomplete injury to the spine in the lower back region as well as multiple injuries to the organs but due to the extent of his other injuries they were most likely only to perform a damage control surgery and will operate fully some 48 hours after Lestrade has further stabilised.  
As a doctor he knew what that meant. They are waiting to see if Lestrade survives the chest surgery and the next night. Only if his vital signs then improve to an acceptable level they'll consider another operation to repair the damage to his abdominal organs.

All he could do right now was to sit and wait.

 

* * *

 

Molly had been looking forward to this date the whole week.  
It took her long enough to see that Sherlock would never love her and now that she finally accepted that she had started to go out with men who where nothing like Sherlock.  
The first few dates were a total disaster but when the Detective Inspector had asked her out her heart actually did skip for a beat.  
She had always liked his deep brown eyes and his boyish smile but with him being married and her preoccupied flirting with Sherlock she had never noticed how much she actually liked him. So she said yes when he asked her a couple of days ago if she would like to have dinner with him.  
Ok there maybe was a 10 year age difference between the two of them but who cares, she thought. She wanted to try it and Greg looked way much younger than he actually is even with his grey hair.

Greg had promised to pick her up at 6pm. It was now 7.30 and there was no sign of him.  
She had tried his phone multiple times but hadn't been able to reach him.  
Molly started to get slightly worried. First she thought that he might had been held up with a case at NSY but then he would have most likely called or sent a text. But he's now an hour and a half late and that that made her equally angry and worried.  
What if something had happened to him? “No, don't think like that,” she grumbled to herself. “There will be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this and we will probably laugh about it in a matter of minutes.”

When the clock stroke 8 and there was still no sign of Lestrade she got really worried. Molly had tried his mobile for what felt like hundred times in the last one and a half hour but still had no luck.  
Something must have happened otherwise Greg would have answered his phone sooner or later.  
Not knowing what to do she called John, hoping that he knows what was going on.

 

* * *

 

John jumped when his cellphone suddenly started ringing. He looked at the display. -Molly Hooper- “What on earth does she want from me now?” He thought annoyed while pressing the answering button. Lestrade was now in surgery for something over 5 hours, had to be resuscitated again during the operation and John was now anxiously waiting for an other status update.

“Hey Molly, listen I don't have time right now. I'm...”  
“I've just got a quick question,” Molly interrupted him. “Do you know by any chance what's up with Gr.., Lestrade? He promised to pick me up for...uhm something over two hours ago but never showed.”   
Johns blood ran cold. Lestrade told him at the Pub a couple of days ago that he finally secured a date after his divorce. In fear of Sherlock ruining everything, Lestrade had been very tight-lipped about who the lucky lady was. But now it dawned to John. Molly! Molly was the girl Lestrade had planned to take out tonight. And now she is waiting for him, not knowing what had happened.  
“John, you still there?” he could hear the worry in her voice.   
John took a deep breath: “Uhm, yeah, sorry. Molly listen. There had been a incident.”

“What happened?” Molly asked the worry now replaced by terror.  “Lestrade was shot during an interview. He's in surgery now. He should be coming out of it soon, I hope. I will call you as soon as I know more. Promise me to stay calm. Please Molly” John explained.  
“No no no. How is he? Is it serious. Oh god it must be. I'm coming to the hospital. Where is he? I'm getting a Taxi and will be there as soon as possible.” Molly was already halfway down the stairs.  
“Molly, no. You can't do anything here. When he's out of surgery he'll be transferred to the Intensive Care Unit right away and it'll most likely take another 2 hours until they let visitors see him. Even then it'll be family only.”

Molly's heart sank. Greg had been shot. And even though John had tried to sound as calm and composed she still could hear the fear in his voice.  
“How bad is it?” she asked, not really wanting to know the answer.  
There was a pause until John answered. “ It's not looking good, Molly. Two bullets entered his chest and one his abdomen. He had to be resuscitated at the scene and is now in surgery for over 5 hours. Listen, like I said, you can't do anything here right now. But I promise I'll call you as soon as they let visitors apart from his family see him, okay?”   
Molly knew he was right. “OK. But promise me to call me as soon as you know more. Please.”  
“Of course. “ John agreed.

After John had ended the call Molly stared at her phone not really knowing what to do now. She wanted to be at the hospital. Be at Greg's side. But she knew that this wasn't possible . At least for now. She wouldn't be very helpful sitting in the waiting room, driving herself and most likely everyone else crazy. So she had to wait. Wait until John calls with what will hopefully be good news.

 


	4. Chapter 4

It took another 2 hours until Lestrade was brought out of the operation theatre and 2 hours later he was transferred from recovery into the ICU. His status was listed as critical. His ex wife and his sons had been informed by the Yard but weren't due to arrive in the next couple of days as they were on holiday somewhere in South East Asia. Because of that and the fact that the doctors weren't even sure if Lestrade would survive the night John had been able to get visiting rights for him and Molly. He had a quick phone call with Lestrade's ex wife explaining the situation and she agreed that it would be best if Lestrade was with people he cared for.

 Not long after John had settled himself back in the waiting area, a doctor emerged from the ICU. “Mr. Watson?” he asked.  
 John stood up and held out a hand “ Yes, hi.”  
The doctor shook his hand “Hello, my name is Doctor Milne. I will be Mr. Lestrade's Doctor during his stay in the Intensive Care Unit. Seeing that you are his next of kin at the moment I'll fill you in on his condition.” Milne said, sitting down while gesturing John to do the same.  
 “The bullets broke 5 ribs on the right site of his chest and 3 on his left site causing a pneumothorax as well as a flail chest on his right site. Both of his lungs had been severely injured but we were able to repair the damage. As for the injuries caused by the bullet to the abdomen, the bullet lodged itself in the L3 vertebrae just in the middle of the lower back. Luckily the bullet had already slowed down significantly and there seems to be no serious damage to the spinal cord. That means there is a chance that Mr. Lestrade might be able to walk again. But we have to wait and see. During surgery damage control was performed to his injuries to the liver and his intestines and we will operate further as soon as his condition allows us to. Do you have any questions at the moment, Mr. Watson?”  
John didn't so the doctor showed him to Lestrade's bed. The visiting time had already ended but regarding Lestrade's critical status and John being a doctor he was allowed a brief visit. The bed was on the opposite site of the ward between to windows and 2 chairs were standing beside it.  
John looked at the man lying in the bed in front of him. Lestrade's normally nicely tanned skin had now nearly the same colour as the bed sheet. John had never seen Lestrade that white before.  He sat down and took Lestrade's lifeless hand.  
“Come on Greg, you've gotta pull through. We need you. I need you. You can't leave me alone with Sherlock. You know how annoying he will become when he loses his best man at Scotland Yard? I don't wanna deal with that” John smirked. He knew Lestrade was heavily sedated and was most likely not able to hear him but it helped John dealing with the situation. “You know, I've just talked to Molly. Bloody bastard for not telling me that she is the woman you were talking about. When you are awake both of you have some serious explaining to do. She is really worried about you. She's coming to see you tomorrow during the official visiting times. So don't you dare to miss that date as well. The Yard had you ex wife informed. She'll bring your sons in a couple of days. Apparently they are on holiday at the moment." He paused for a moment, the silence only interrupted by the noises of the machines attached to Lestrade.  "I've got to leave now but I'll be back tomorrow. Maybe Sherlock will come along too, though he's working on your case at the moment. Dropped everything to find out what Greydon's involvement in that case was and why he tried to kill you. What we know so far is that he didn't murder the victim. I'll keep you up to date.” John said while standing up.

John took one last look on Lestrade's chart before he left the ward. His stats had slightly improved and John had hopes that Lestrade will actually make it through the night.

 

* * *

 

Greg had made it through the night. And Molly's heart had raced when she finally got the call that she could come over to see him. When she arrived at the Intensive Care Unit she saw John sitting outside the patient area, clutching a cup of coffee. Her heart sank. “What happened?”  
John looked utterly tired. “He crashed. They are working on him at the moment. We can see him as soon as he's stable again.”

20 minutes later the doctor emerged. “We've got him stabilised again,” he said to John. “If you want you can go back to him.”  
John nodded and got up, throwing the cup into the trash can. He looked over to Molly. “You ready to see him?”  
Even though Molly said she wasn't really sure about it. Her legs felt like rubber. She had a medical degree so she knew what to expect but it was completely different when a person you know was involved. She gave her name to the nurse on duty and then followed John towards Greg's bed at the end of the ward. As soon as she saw him tears began to fall down her face.   
“Please don't leave us Greg. Be strong. You can survive this, I know it.” She took his lifeless hand in hers and rubbed it gently. He looked so small with all the machines surrounding him. A thin hospital blanked was pulled up to his waist. Numerous tubes and IVs pumped stuff in and out of his body. Molly knew what they were all there for but didn't want to think about it. Bandages and dressings were covering nearly his complete torso. The small patches of skin that weren't bandaged were occupied by several pads, monitoring Greg's vital signs. They had put a plastic brace on his back to help stabilising his spine until they could operate on it. A cuff around his upper arm measured his blood pressure. Additionally to the IV line in his left hand a central line had been placed in his neck so that they were able to administer medications and other things needed as fast as possible. Her eyes wandered up to his face, nearly half of it was obscured by the tape holding the intubation tube inside his mouth which was connected to a ventilator, in place. She noticed stitches over his left eyebrow, the area swollen. Molly wondered if Greg had hit his head falling down or if his attacker had punched him. She put her head on his hand and stared to sob. John had told her about Greg's injuries. They were horrific and when John had told her that the doctors still weren't sure if Greg would survive this it felt like the ground had been pulled from under her feet. “Please don't die.” Her whole body shook. She felt John rubbing her back. “He'll pull through. He's strong.”  
She looked up, eyes all red. “He is,” she smiled.   
Molly stayed throughout the whole visiting hours promising Greg to be back the next day. 

 

When Molly came back the next morning she registered herself at the nurse station and went over to Greg's bed. A nurse had just finished checking on him. “How's he doing?” Molly asked as the nurse who was about to leave.  
The nurse turned around. “Morning, his stats have improved slightly. So the Doctors decided that they most likely operate on his abdominal injuries tomorrow.”  
“He's still not stable enough?”  
The nurse shook her head. “No, they fear that another surgery right now would put to much strain on his body. But he's doing good.“ The nurse smiled encouragingly.  
Molly nodded slowly. “Thanks,” she smiled back and sat down on one of the chairs next to Greg's bed. She took Greg's hand between hers. “Heard you are doing better. That's great news, isn't it?” She looked up when an alarm suddenly went off 3 beds away and watched the nurses and doctors rush to the patient. Looking back to Greg she said. “They told me that they are going to operate on you tomorrow. Try your best to be as fit as possible by then so that we don't have to worry too much about you.“ Tears were again forming in her eyes and she forced herself to smile.

 

* * *

 

It was the second day after Greg's surgery. The doctors had reduced the sedatives the day before and were waiting for him to wake up.  
Straight after Work Molly had went to the hospital.  
She gently stroke Greg's arm. “It's a beautiful day outside. You should wake up and see for yourself.” She smiled through the tears that were running down her face. “Everybody is missing you. Even Sherlock. He asks me nearly every day on how you are doing.”  
Suddenly an alarm went off on one of the monitors next to Greg's bed. A doctor and 2 nurses rushed towards him. Molly stepped back and watched them work. Greg's vital signs were dropping and they frantically tried to stabilize their patient. “His blood pressure keeps dropping.” One of the nurse said. More alarms sounded off on different monitors. “Multiple organ failure.”  
“He's bleeding internally. Get him ready for blood transfusion and call the surgery ward. He needs emergency surgery,” the doctor ordered.   
One of the nurses went off and returned shortly with a blood bag which she hung on one of the IV stands on Greg's bed. The other nurse unhooked him from the ventilator, now manually ventilating Greg until they had connected him to the movable equipment. The doctor undid the breaks and together they moved the bed towards the elevator. Molly put her hands over her mouth and slit down the wall she was leaning on. She now was sobbing uncontrollably. She didn't noticed the views from the other visitors or the nurse who walked towards her until she felt her hand on her shoulder.  
“Mrs. Hooper? Please get up. I'll let you to an area where you can wait.”   
Molly took her hand and let herself been pulled up. The nurse laid an arm around her and walked with her to the waiting area. “Do you want anything to drink?”   
Molly shook her head.   
The Nurse smiled at her encouragingly. “I'm sure he'll be fine. He already showed that he's a fighter.”

After the nurse had left Molly calmed down a bit. She took her mobile and called John informing him that Greg had crashed again and had been brought to emergency surgery for suspected internal bleeding. She promised John to call him as soon as there were news on Greg's status.

One and a half hour later the nurse returned and informed her that the surgery was successful and Greg was stabilised again and would soon return to the ward. Molly let out a sigh of relieve.   
“It'll most likely be another hour until you can see him again, so why don't you grab something to eat?” The nurse suggested.  
“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” She got up and phoned John to tell him that the surgery went well and Greg was fine. 

Molly came back after lunch and found Greg back in his spot. “Don't you ever do that again, you hear me? You have us all worried sick.” She watched the rhythmical rise and fall of his chest. “Your parents had been here yesterday. They'll be back later. Don't scare them like you scared me this morning.”

The day before, when Molly had arrived in the ICU unit she had been asked by a nurse if she could wait because there already were two visitors at Greg's bedside. She had settled herself in the waiting room and had looked through the window towards Greg's bed. An elderly couple had been standing beside it. The woman crying heavily. The man, who looked a lot like Greg, had his arm on her back, rubbing it gently. Molly had watched the woman talk to Greg, gently stroking her hand through his hair. With the other one she had been holding Greg's hand. Molly had watched how the man bend over and whispered something in her ear but the woman shook her head. The man had looked up to her apologetic but Molly had indicated him that they should take as much time as they needed and then had gone for a walk. 

Greg's father watched his wife talking to their son. He thought that it was time to leave. They were already here for 4 hours and he saw, that the young women, who had been at Greg's bedside when they had first arrived, had returned and was now in the waiting room. But his wife wanted to stay. She said that it'll help Greg, knowing that they are here. He wasn't quite sure if Greg knew that they were there and if he could hear them but at least it was comforting his wife. He looked at all the machines attached to his son. “It's amazing what the medicine is capable of these days, isn't it?” He said, more to himself than to anyone particular.  
His wife looked up to him. “Yes. He'll be fine, won't he?”  
“Of course. He's strong.”  
“He'll wake up soon....” the last words were lost in sobs.  
“He will.” Greg's father said.  
"But what if he won't be able walk again. Greg has always been so active. What if he can't work for the Yard anymore." Greg's mother said, stroking her son over the face.   
"We don't know that yet. We have to wait until he wakes up and maybe everything will be fine. Who knows." Greg's father said.   
"Sorry. Yes, you're right." Greg's mother bend down over her son and gave him a kiss on his forehead. "We've got to leave soon. Be strong, honey."

 

* * *

 

3 days later Molly was sitting at Greg’s bedside watching his chest rise and fall every time air was pushed into it. His condition had been updated from critical to serious but stable and they were still waiting for him to wake up.  
“Please wake up” Molly begged while gently stroking Greg's hand. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “You know, I really really do like you. I was so happy when you asked me out on a date and I …” Suddenly Molly felt a movement under her hand. “Greg?" Molly called out “Can you hear me Greg? If so please squeeze my hand!” The slight squeeze made her heart jump.

 From one of the attached monitors a alarm sound could be heard. A nurse came, pushed a few buttons and the noise stopped. Molly stepped back to let her work. The nurse carried out a couple of tests, talking through the whole procedure. Upon finishing she touched Lestrade on his shoulder “Greg, try to open your eyes, can you do that?”

 

* * *

 

Greg could hear a voice in the distance. It sounded suspiciously like Molly. Why was she asking him to wake up? She sounded so worried. He was confused, something wasn't right. Where was he? Something was in his throat, it felt uncomfortable. He slightly moved his arm, prompting the Molly like voice to ask him to squeeze her hand. He did as he was told, noticing that he had no strength at all. Suddenly the Molly voice was replaced by a different one. He felt that the person to that voice kept touching him. Doing stuff. Asking him to open his eyes. Lestrade began to panic. What was happening. He was tired and just wanted to sleep.

The nurse had to ask a couple of times but after a few minutes Greg finally opened his eyes, unfocused. Confusion and panic evident. His hands moved up to the breathing tube but were gently stopped by the nurse.  
“Greg, I need you to calm down. My name is Sarah and I'm a nurse at the Royal London Hospital. You were injured. You are currently in the Intensive Care Unit and the thing in your throat is a tube that helps you to breath,” the nurse explained. The anxiety rose, tears were forming in Greg's eyes.  
“Everything is going to be fine Greg, I need you to do a couple of things for me ok?”   
Greg nodded.  
“Can you look at me?” The nurse asked. It took him great effort but after a while he was able to focus on the person standing next to him. It was a 30ish old woman. Behind her was another person, Molly, Greg recognized. He didn't know why but he suddenly felt calmer.  
“Are you in any pain at the moment?”   
Greg slowly shook his head. He felt weird, no pain but more like he was in a really strange dream.  
“Good”, the nurse stated. “One last thing and then I promise I let you sleep again,” she said cheerfully. “You sustained an injury to your spine therefore I need to check the feeling in your legs. Please nod when you feel something and shake your head when you don't.” She produced a pinprick stimulator and removed the blanket partially from Greg's legs. Greg could feel the panic rise when the nursed asked if he could feel anything. Nothing, he could feel nothing. He shook his head. The nurse now moved to his left leg. And again he didn't feel anything. He shook his head again, tears now streaming down his face.   
"Why couldn't he feel nothing?" Greg thought. What had happened?  
“There is nothing to worry about, Greg, “ the nurse said reassuringly. “ You know, with that type of injury it is not uncommon that the feeling returns.”  
Greg didn't care. What if he would never be able to walk again? He felt his hand being picked up again and a small and soft hand wiped away his tears.

 

* * *

 

Molly's heart broke when she saw Greg reacting to the sensation test. She couldn't bare watching this normally so strong man cry. So to comfort him she took his hand and with her other hand she wiped away the tears that were falling from eyes that became unfocused again. "Shhh, it's ok. You're going to be fine," Molly whispered.  
The nurse rearranged the blanket and sent an smile to Molly. “Keep talking to him that will calm him down.“ And so Molly did, until Greg fell asleep again.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Molly was at Greg's bedside nearly everyday. She hated the times she had to work. His periods of wakefulness were becoming longer but because of all the pain medication he was given he still wasn't really lucid most of the time.   
There were short periods were his eyes fixed on her or other people and she could see him calming down a little bit but most of the time what she could see in his eyes was panic and confusion.  
And all she could do during that times was wiping away the tears that were falling while holding Greg's hands and telling him stuff that might hopefully calm him down.  
John had told her that this is quite normal with patients in the ICU due to the sedatives and pain medication given. Still, it hurt her every time but she needed to be strong for Greg. Especially after his reaction when his sons came to visit.  
They were only 17 and 14 and had understandably been crying throughout the whole visit. His ex wife was with them so Molly stepped back to let them have their time with Greg.

 

* * *

 

Greg woke up to voices talking to him. He opened his eyes and saw two boys standing beside his bed. James and Oliver, his sons.  
The happiness that flooded through him turned quickly into worry. Why were they crying? What had happened? He wanted to talk to them, tell them that everything is OK and that he'll take care of whatever or whoever had make them cry. But he couldn't.  
Something inside his throat made it impossible for him to talk. He remembered waking up before to that horrible feeling and decided that he needed to get that thing out. But before his hand could reach the tube they were caught mid air by Oliver, Greg's eldest son.  
“Dad, don't. Please” Greg could hear him say. “You need that, remember? You...you wouldn't be breathing without it” Oliver said, now choking on tears.  
Slowly Greg began to panic. Why shouldn't he be able to breath without that thing inside his throat? What had been done to him?  
Moriarty! Moriarty was back, he remembered seeing his face on the Telly. He wanted to get out of here, get him and his sons to safety.  
He struggled to get up not realizing that all what his body was capable of at the moment was a weak try to get his hands out of his son's grip. Why was his own son holding him captive?Greg turned his head, seeing his younger boy, James, crying even harder while being hold by a strange women.  
Who was that women, why was she holding his son? Did she made them cry? Is she the reason why his son keeps pinning his arms down? Nothing made sense in Lestrade's mind.

 

* * *

 

Even though she stopped loving this man, Jane still cared for him. She had always feared this call during their marriage. She knew that Greg's work can be dangerous and there had been a few trips to the A&E to pick him up during their marriage but she never thought that she would see him critically injured. Seeing him in such a state, eyes wide of panic after she had tried to calm him down, was hard for Jane. She couldn't imagine how hard it must be for James and Oliver at the moment.  
She didn't know what to do, should she continue to speak to Greg, hoping that he will recognize her at one point or should she better leave?  
She knew that she had hurt him with her cheating but did that justify his behaviour?

The woman who was sitting at Greg's side when they had arrived and had introduced herself as Molly laid a hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her back.  
“It's OK. That's the drugs, that make him react like this. It's nothing personal, he reacted like this to the nurses and other people as well” Molly said to Jane.  
“I called the nurse, she'll give him something that'll calm him down"  
A few minutes later a nurse arrived and gave Greg a sedative which made him fall asleep soon after.

 

* * *

 

During the next week Greg became more and more lucid and aware of his surroundings but it was still far from being fully aware.   
He had been moved from the general ward to a private room and the breathing tube in his throat had been exchanged to an Tracheotomy where they had made an incision in Greg's throat to insert the tube. His breathing had improved but he still needed triggered ventilation.

Like every day Molly came over after work. She walked towards his bed. Greg was awake, his eyes scanning the room. He looked agitated and confused. Molly took his hand and stroke it gently. “Hey Greg. Nice to see you awake again. Those eyes are far too pretty to be closed.” Greg moved his head slightly and the corner of his mouth twitched. “Was that a smile?” But his eyes were closed again. Molly reached in her handbag and pulled out a book. “I've brought a new book. I hope you like it. It's a tiny bit romantic but I really want to read it so you have to go through it, I'm afraid. Let me know when you don't like it. “

Molly had read the first two chapters to Greg when she noticed him moving. She looked up and saw Greg looking at her. For the first time his eyes seemed completely clear. His right hand moved slightly reaching for Molly. She put the book down and leaned forward, putting his hand between hers and rubbed it with her thumb. “Hey,” she whispered.

Greg moved his mouth as if he was about to say something. “Don't try to talk. There is a tube down your throat.” Greg's eyes widened. “No, it's fine, Greg. Don't panic. It's there to help you.” She watched him calming down as she soothingly rubbed his arm. “I'll get you something to write, Ok?” He nodded slightly.

A couple of minutes later she returned with a notepad and a biro. She placed it next to Greg's hip and put the pen in his hand.  
“Hey,” he scribbled. “Thx 4 bein here. Helped.” He looked up at her and his lips formed a small smile.  
“You're welcome,” Molly said, patting his arm. “A lot of other people visited you. John was here, your parents, your children. And a lot of other people are waiting desperately for your doctors to clear you for more visitors.”  
Greg closed his eyes for a moment then scribbled: “Kids Ok?”  
“Yes, they are fine. I think they'll be back in a week or so.”  
“U ok? look tired.” He looked at her concerned.  
Molly felt tears rising up. This man was unbelievably selfless. Here he was lying in front of her in a hospital bed, seriously injured and coherent for the longest time in days and the first things he cared about was if his kids and she were Ok. She smiled through the rising tears. “I'm fine. Don't you worry about me. Just concentrate on getting better, Ok?”  
He gave her a long look then nodded slowly. He turned his head away from her and for a while he seemed completely withdrawn into himself. Molly already thought that he was sleeping again when Greg wrote: “legs?” He looked up at Molly, fear in his eyes.  
“Do you remember what happened?”  
Greg shook his head. Molly shifted uncomfortably on her chair and cleared her throat. “You've been shot. You're doctor will go through your injuries with you.”  
She flinched when she saw Greg shaking his head vehemently. “now.” The pen fell out of his hand and he fumbled to get hold of it again. “Cant feel them. Why?” Tears were now forming in his eyes. “Whats wrong?” he scribbled. “Tell me, plz.”   
She looked at him. “Greg, it's better when your doctor goes through your injuries with you, believe me.” She noticed that he was getting irritated. “Now,” he mouthed. A single tear fell down Greg's right cheek. “I'll get your doctor. He'll talk to you about it.” Molly was about to get up when Greg grabbed her hand, trying to stop her from leaving. He slightly raised his head and when he noticed that he didn't had the strength to hold her he let it fall back on the pillow again. He looked up frustrated and then suddenly reached for the breathing tube. Molly quickly leaned over and grabbed his hands.   
“Don't do that, Greg. You'll hurt yourself.” She shook her head when Greg rolled his eyes.   
His arms relaxed in her grip. Molly didn't know what to do. She knew that it would really be the best if a professional would talk Greg through his spine injury but on the other hand she could understand that he was frightened and wanted to know what was going on. Molly saw a nurse walking over to them and signalled her that everything was fine.  
She took a deep breath. “One bullet hit your spine. That's why you can't feel your legs at the moment.”   
His chin began to shake and he started chewing on his lower lip.   
“ I know this is a shock but the doctors say there is a good chance that it's not permanent.” She carefully touched his shoulder. “Listen, it's nothing to worry about, Ok? You'll be fine.

Greg squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away from Molly. The tears were now streaming freely over his face.   
“I saw your scans. They are looking really promising.”   
Greg opened his eyes but still had his head turned away from her, his chin still shaking.   
“Do you want to be left alone for a bit?”   
He gave a slight nod.  
“Right, I'll just let the nurses know that you are awake, Ok?”   
He nodded again.

 

* * *

 

Normally he was very happy when he awoke and Molly was at his site but there had been one moment where all the embarrassment of his current situation had hit him. And it had hit him hard.

He had just couldn't come to terms with the fact that he was paralysed and  was quite certain that it will be permanent, no matter what the doctors and Molly said to him.   
Right now he was given a sponge bath and the nurse had rolled him onto his side to clean his private parts.  
This was painful even with the amount of painkillers he was given and even though he knew that it was a daily job for the nurse Greg was embarrassed every time.

But what made it even worse this time was that while he was lying on his side, displaying his full glory with catheter and everything, Molly suddenly appeared in the door frame. She looked a quite embarrassed as well and quickly turned around and left to give Greg the privacy he needed during that procedure.

Greg just wanted to die out of embarrassment. He didn't want Molly to see him in a state like that. He didn't want her to see him at all so helpless, not able to do anything on his own. She shouldn't waste her time with him, an old man who's useless below the bellybutton. So when she returned after the nurse had finished he just closed his eyes and hoped that sleep would claim him.  
He felt Molly reaching for his hand but he moved it away.  
“Greg, “ Molly said in a hurt tone, “what's wrong?”  
Slowly Greg turned his head and gestured to the pen and the notepad Molly had brought to help him communicate.  
She lay the notepad beside his hip and handed him the pen.  
“Why are you here?” he wrote with a shaky hand.Greg could see tears forming in Molly's eyes. He didn't wanted to hurt her. “Sorry” he scribbled quickly.  
Molly forced a smile and leaned forward. “I am here because I like you. I care for you and I want the thing between us to work out. Remember when you asked me out? Since then all I could think about is being with you. Waking up next to you and spend the rest of my life with you”  
“Why?”  
“Why?” Molly sucked in a deep breath “Why? Because you are the best and finest man I've ever had the pleasure to meet. I can still kick my ass for not noticing it earlier. You are a bloody good looking guy with a great persona and I can't wait to see that lovely smile of yours returning”  
Lestrade shook his head. No he wasn't the Detective Inspector Molly had agreed to go out with any more. Not the man who asked Molly out for a date. Who had planned so much to do and see with her.  
Now he was an invalid, a fucking cripple who wasn't able to do anything on his own. Not even bloody breathing.  
He felt hot tears streaming down his face and wrote “No, am not what I used to be. Cripple. Worthless. Find someone better” gesturing with his left hand up and down his battered body and useless legs.  
“No Greg, that's not true” Molly said. “First of all the doctors said that it is highly likely that you regain full feeling on both of your legs, you just have to be patient. It'll come, trust me, you are one of the most stubborn persons I've ever met. If you want to walk you will walk. In a couple of month you will be up and running like nothing had happened”  
A few days ago the doctor had told Molly that Lestrade had shown reactions to the sensory tests to his legs. They were pretty weak but gave reason to hope   
“And secondly even if not there would still be no other man I would want more than you. You are no less man to me, Greg, no matter what. You've got to get that into that thick skull of yours.” Molly bend over and wiped away the tears on Greg's face.

For a few Minutes all there was in the room was silence only broken by the whooshing sound of the ventilator and the occasional beeping of a machine. Then a slight smile broke out on Lestrade's face. “Molly really does love me” Greg thought and he could feel the fear and bad mood slowly fade away.  
He picked up the pen again “ Still owe you a proper date then” Greg wrote, smiling more brightly now.  
Molly kissed his forehead “ Yes you do” she said, “yes you do”.  
“You've gotta wait a bit though” Greg wrote down, now spotting this boyish smile of his that Molly loved so much. “Don't think they let me share whatever they are giving me trough this fucker” he gestured toward the tube that had been inserted into the side of his belly.  
“Not sure I'd even want anything from that, Greg. It's all yours” Molly said laughing.  
“OK, but as soon as I'm out of this bed I'll take you somewhere to eat, even if it's only the bloody cafeteria. Deal?”  
“Deal!” Molly answered, carefully shaking the hand Greg held out.  
“Good” Greg scribbled. Suddenly he felt very tired. It took a huge amount to pick up the pen again and very shakily he wrote “Sorry for before. Tired, gotta sleep. Please stay. Need you.”  
“Don't be sorry,” Molly said running soothing fingers through his hair, “everything is fine. When ever you feel down just talk to me. I'll be there for you”  
Lestrade nodded and closed his eyes. A few moments later he was fast asleep, knowing that whatever might come he would have Molly at his side. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

“So how's Lestrade doing?" Sally asked Molly during a visit in the morgue.   
“Well he's still pretty much out of it the most time but the episodes when he is awake  _and_ coherent are becoming longer and more frequent.”  
Sally nodded “That's good to hear. I mean his body needs the sleep to heal, doesn't it? I'll tell the rest of the team that he's been cleared for social visits.”  
“Yes, I'm pretty sure he'll be happy to see you lot.”  
“I hope so. How does he take the fact that,” Sally looked down uncomfortably, “you know, the spinal cord injury?”  
Molly shrugged her shoulders. “Not sure. I mean it's a pretty big thing to deal with. He hadn't mentioned it the last times I saw him. I think he's trying to push it out of his mind. Ignoring that it happened. If he ever speaks about his injuries he only mentions the ones to his chest and how they trouble him.” She didn't want to tell Sally about the times when Greg had cried. Or when she had seen “better dead” written on his notepad when she returned after a doctor had been doing some tests. That was something utmost personal. “You don't have any contact information of some of his friends by any chance?”  
“No sorry,” Sally shook her head. “But he's got a friend who works on a different team. I'm pretty sure he already contacted any common friends. I'll let him know that he can visit Lestrade now.”  
“Great, thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 Greg was woken by a knock on his door. He rolled his eyes. What the hell was he supposed to do. He was still not able to talk because of the ventilator and he was hardly able to move so there was no way somebody could disturb him at something. He couldn't even sit up because of that stupid back brace he was forced to wear. 

It took ages until the door opened and a smile formed on Greg's face when he saw Peter and Thomas, his best mates, walking towards his bed. He lifted his hand and waved slightly.   
“Ah look who's finally awake this time.” Peter said and sat down on one of the chairs.  
“What an honor.” Thomas added laughing. Upon seeing Greg's confused face he added: “Well the last times we were here you were pretty much out of it most of the time. Can't even remember it, can you?” They knew each other for over 20 years now so they had every right to banter. Greg made an apologetic face.  
“Don't be. You look good. Well not good, but better.” Thomas joked. “How are you feeling?” he asked and got a weak thump up as a reply.  
Greg pointed towards the notepad and waited until Thomas had handed him it. "What were you waiting for at the door? Me saying come in?"   
"Sorry, force of habit I guess. We were actually discussing if we should go straight in but then thought that we should give you a warning, you know so that we won't burst into something indecent," Peter laughed. "We saw some the nurses," he added making a whistling noise.  
Greg forced a smile. "Not much that I can do I'm afraid. Useless down below and too much pain when I try to move my upper body," he wrote.   
Peter and Thomas chuckled uncomfortably.  
"Anyway, what's new at the Yard?"   
"Well, they are desperately trying to find somebody stupid enough to look after the paperwork in the chaos of what you call your system. Not sure if they'll ever find one." Peter said.   
Greg jokingly rolled his eyes. "perfect system"  
"If it's still the same as back then when we used to be together on the beat I highly doubt it." Thomas joked.  
"Not fair, injured."  
"No excuse there, mate."   
Greg listened to Peter talk about what else was going on at the Yard and in their lives and he could feel the sleep trying to claim him again. He hated it. Why can't he be able to stay awake when somebody visited him without feeling utterly exhausted  after a short while. Right now he was at the point even was too exhausted to write down what he wanted to say and had resorted to head and hand movements to communicate.  
He must have dozed off because suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and Thomas saying to him that they were about to leave. Greg opened his eyes again and shook his head. He was bored to death during the times he was awake and nobody was visiting him, so he didn't want them to leave. He raised his head slightly and reached out his hand  but his mates mistook it for a gesture to say goodbye and shook it.   
"Get your rest so that you'll soon be back with us, okay?" Peter carefully padded his shoulder and Thomas added: "We'll visit you again soon." And with that they left and Greg was alone again. He let his head fall back onto his pillow again and rolled his eyes annoyed. 

 

* * *

Greg hated it to be stuck in that hospital bed.  
He was told that there was a nice view out of the window in his room over London and the newly built The Shard but because of his injuries he had to lay nearly flat and he hadn't really had the chance yet to enjoy that view.

He still hasn't regained all his feeling in his legs and moving his arms higher than a few inches resulted in unspeakable pain in his chest as he had found out during his first physiotherapy session. Well at least the first he was fully aware of.  
It had gotten better with the time but still hurt like hell and it annoyed him to still be so helpless even though his doctors and therapists assured him that he was making good progress.

And most of it all he hated it to be on the ventilator.  
At least now he finally was able to speak after some sessions with a speech-language pathologists. They had started with it shortly after Peter and Thomas had visited and it took him some while to get used to it but finally he was able to manage it. That was a little bit of freedom. But even though it was not as annoying as writing down everything he wanted to say it didn't mean that it was easy. Greg was only able to speak when the ventilator pushed the air out of his body, so his speak pattern was off and it took him a lot of effort to keep up conversations.

Shortly after Greg got his speaking valve fitted , John and Sherlock paid him a visit. Greg had the vague suspicion that John had persuaded Sherlock to come along with the promise to talk about the case. Greg didn't mind, at least that made him feel like his old self a little bit.  
“How are you, Greg? I see they let you talk now, hope you're not only using it for complaining?” John greeted Greg with a grin.  
“...had been...better but then...also worse.” Greg said smirking “'s boring here...no...'m never... complaining... 's like ...a 5....star hol...liday”  
“Well I better ask the nurses about that” John said laughing.  
The reply was an unidentifiable grunt.  
“so...” Greg started, “...what have....you found...out?” The last word was nearly lost in a cough.  
“Nothing really, I'm afraid” John answered.  
Greg could hear a disapproving grunt from his right. “...wha'?” he asked turning his head to Sherlock.  
“Well, first of all we do know that this wasn't a random attack,” Sherlock explained, “Someone ordered Greydon to kill you. He was ordered to date the original victim; who was killed by some junky who got paid for it by the way. Because of that who ever ordered the attack on you could be sure that Greydon would be questioned as a possible person of interest.  
“huh?...who?” Lestrade asked puzzled  
“That's where we're not quite sure yet” Sherlock admitted.  
“I'm trying to get Donovan to let me look into your old cases but she doesn't let me. I want you to think about all your old cases and as soon as you are physically up to it get the ones you think could be connected with this from Donovan, look through them and tell me everything that meets your eye.”  
Lestrade nodded, his mind already going through old cases, searching for clues on who would have an interest to kill him.

 

* * *

 

John and Sherlock stayed for over an hour, talking about old cases and what else was going on. Jon noticed that the hint of sadness the DI had in his eyes he had since the shooting was nearly gone.  
After a nurse asked them to leave as the visiting time was over John took Sherlock to the site. “I see what you did there, Sherlock” The Detective gave John an annoyed look. “ You could've got the files easily from Mycroft,” John continued. “And due to the lack of an Officer in front of Lestrade's room I think you already know who did it and didn't care to tell me or Lestrade for that matter.”  
“Obviously, “ Sherlock replied. “Our Detective Inspector is feeling depressed because of his current situation and needs something to feel useful again during the time of his recovery. So I got all of Lestrade's old cases from Mycroft, found a guy who had a lot of reasons to go on a revenge trip on Lestrade and had him taken, let's say to custody, by my brother. I couldn't risk to let him get away. He'll remain there until Lestrade helped us to figure it out..again.”  
“Sherlock, that's genius! He began to lighten up when we were talking about work stuff and old cases, “ John said. “Allowing him to help us finding the guy and giving him the feeling that we couldn't do it without his help will hopefully keep the depressions at bay.“   
John knew that sooner or later Lestrade would figure out what was going on and would become suspicious as to why Sherlock wasn't able to catch the guy by himself. But John hoped that this would rather be later and that Lestrade would appreciate that all of this was to keep him occupied during his recovery and to show him that he'll always be needed.

 

* * *

 

The doctors said that they would try to get him off the ventilator in a couple of days. Greg was really looking forward to it but until then he had to deal with the fact that even a simple sentence took ages to finish.  
He was thinking to tell Molly about it at her next visit but he still vividly remembered the last time the doctors tried to take him off. He had wanted Molly to be with him because he had wanted her to be proud about the progress he made and to show her that they were only steps away to have a real date. Well it turned out to be the wrong choice.

The weaning progress had actually started when they had put him on triggered ventilation after leaving the ICU and the doctors where quite certain that Greg would be able to breath completely on his own after the progress he mad with his speech. So everybody had been quite optimistic.   
While the nurse had been removing  the ventilator he had reached for Molly's hand.  
“All right, Greg, “ the nurse said “ now slowly try to draw in a breath”  
Greg had done as he had been told and had experienced a horrible pain in his chest that had brought tears to his eyes. He had stopped the breathing effort at once and his grip on Molly's hand had tightened.  
“I know that it hurts, but you need to try to breath as deep as possible. The pain will get better eventually,” the nurse had tried to reassure him  
But even after he had tried again he hadn't been able to draw in a deep breath and had felt like he was suffocating and sightly panicked.  
Not wanting to be hooked up to that machine again he had chosen to pretend that his breathing was all good after Molly had asked how he was feeling.  
He hadn't noticed that what he thought was an optimistic “yes, all perfect” had come out as a strained “ 's a' pfect” and that Molly and the nurse had exchanged worried looks.  
“You know it's not a shame to try at a different time. It takes time to get back to regular breathing with lung injuries like yours,” the nurse had said reassuringly while lying a hand on Greg's shoulder. “We just keep changing the settings of the ventilator every day to less and less assistance until your lungs are healed to the point where they are able to work completely on their own.”  
Greg could feel a tear running down his left chin. He shook his head “No! 's good. All fine. Don' need help anymo'”  
“No Greg you're not fine” Molly had said, slightly annoyed about his stubbornness. “Your breathing is bloody laboured. I bet that you are not even getting enough oxygen." "And don't try to lie to me, Greg.” Molly had added seeing that Greg was trying to word a denial.“The nurse can check the level in your blood, you know?” Lestrade looked defeated.  
Molly had hated herself for the harsh words but she knew that they were needed. Greg being the stubborn idiot that he is would keep on pretending that everything is fine until he would pass out due to the lack of oxygen or even worse stop breathing while at sleep.  
Deep inside Greg had known that Molly was right and had given in. The ventilator got hooked up again and the nurse had promised him that they'll give it an other try soon.  
“Sorry.” Lestrade had been utterly disappointed. “Thought...that I...was ready,” He had been desperately trying to hide the tears that had threatened to come up again.  
“There is nothing to be sorry about” Molly had answered while running a hand soothingly through his razor cut short hair. “Just don't be so stubborn the next time when you know it isn't working at the moment OK? You've come a far way already and episodes like this will only do more harm than good”  
“I promise” Greg had said, reaching up to her hand despite the pain in his chest.

 

* * *

 

With this episode in mind Greg decided that it would be better to try it without Molly. During the last week the nurse had changed the setting of his ventilator to a level where he was nearly breathing on his own. The ventilator only kicked in when the cycle between the breaths became to long or when his oxygen level had dropped during the night, so they decided to give it an other try.

Greg felt a small amount of panic creeping up. What if he still wasn't able to breath independently? Could he manage an other throw back? When the nurse unhooked him from the ventilator Greg decided that it was probably a good move that Molly wasn't here. He would most like do something stupid again, despite his promise to her the last time.  
Carefully he took a breath. “Not bad” he thought. It still hurt but not as much as the last time and he was able to get more oxygen with one breath. It was still a long way to the full lung capacity but he didn't had the feeling that he was suffocating.  
The nurse looked pleased as well. “That's looking good, Greg. I told you a little time will do wonders,“ she said while checking the monitors. “I'm now going to remove the trach valve and the tube. This might be a little bit uncomfortable but it will be over quickly. I need you to cough as hard as you can on three. Can you do that for me Greg? “  
Greg nodded and did as he was told. “Bloody hell, “ he thought, “a little uncomfortable my arse. This felt like my lungs got ripped out” He continued to cough while the nurse threw away the tubes and began dressing his wound.  
“I'll get you some ice cubes to sooth your throat” the nurse said. “And the doctor to check if you are up to solid food already.”   
“Thanks” Greg rasped out.

 

* * *

 

The prospect of being allowed real food made Greg's day even greater. Not only did he got rid of that stupid breathing machine but there was also a change that he would be able to eat again. Everybody who visited him since he got out of the ICU had to put up with his complaining that he really misses to eat actual food. The stuff they feed him with the tube in his stomach didn't make him feel hungry but he misses the taste. And Greg was sure that even the normally so boring hospital food would taste like heaven.  
But boy was he wrong about that. The doctor gave his permission to have the feeding tube removed as soon as Lestrade was able to sit nearly upright. It took Greg a couple of days of painful physiotherapy but finally he was able to sit upright for a short amount of time until it got too painful again.  
So when the doctor gave his OK for Greg's first meal he proudly send a message to Molly that the dinner in the hospital cafeteria isn't that far away any more because he was now allowed to eat real food and as soon as he was able to sit in an wheelchair he would like to have a mini version of the dinner they had planed on the day he got shot.

When Molly arrived at Greg's room she didn't know whether to laugh or to cry over the picture that greeted her. Greg was sitting in his bed, a plate of some mashed up, colourless food on the bedside table which was now folded out over his lap. With his right hand he held a spoon with which he half-heartedly poke through the meal. His look resembled that of a kid who was sitting in front of a plate full of vegetables. It was a mixture of disappointment and discuss.  
“Not quite your taste then, Greg?” Molly greeted him.  
Greg looked up “ If it would only taste like something,” he muttered. “I was really looking forward to it and now look what they gave me,” he said, picking some of the stuff up with his spoon and letting it falling down on the plate again.  
“Well I think that's all your stomach can handle right now, you sustained a quite severe inj...” Molly started but was interrupted by Greg.  
“Yeah, I know. That's what the doctors keep telling me but I still don't think that shredded cardboard is any helpful.” He dropped the spoon with a clatter on the plate.  
“You do know that right now you are behaving like the 6 year old nephew of mine when he has to eat his vegetables?” Molly said laughing.  
“'m not,” Greg replied only to realize that this was the exact answer a 6 year old would give as well.  
“ OK maybe a bit,” he laughed regretting it in instantly as he felt the pain in his chest and stomach getting worse. Greg made a mental note that laughing, even though it didn't hurt that bad any more when he was lying down, was not a great idea while sitting up.  
“You OK?” Molly asked concerned.  
“Yeah, 'm fine” Greg said while trying to breath through the pain. It was getting worse but he didn't want to lay down just yet.  
Molly noticed the strain in Greg's smile and the change in his breathing. “Shouldn't you be lying down now that you have finished eating?” she asked innocently.  
“Nah, I'm...'m fine as long as the...the pain doesn't get too much,” Greg said, trying to sound as fine as possible. A look in Molly's face who was looking at him with her right eyebrow slightly raised told him that he failed miserably.  
“Well OK, maybe you're... you're right,” he said defeated and reached for the remote to put down the headrest to a more comfortable position.  
“Well at least I do know now that the view from my room actually is as nice as all of you said. And I can't wait to enjoy it again during my next meal of yesterday's newspapers shredded in some baby food,” Greg said smiling after his pain meds had kicked in and the pain got back to an acceptable level. “Nurse said that they are trying to get me up and into an wheelchair as soon as I can sit long enough without being in too much pain,” Greg added cheerfully.  
“Those are great news, Greg. And in no time you will be able to take me out to the dinner you keep promising me for weeks now.” Molly carefully nudged Greg's shoulder.  
  
Greg smiled. He would.Now that he was able to sit up this was his next goal. Small steps, as John had told him: “Don't set yourself goals that are just unreachable at the moment. It will make you happier to succeed in small steps than fail at the bigger ones” He had laid them out already. First of all being able to sit in a wheelchair, secondly being able to push himself, thus gaining more independence, then starting to use the loo again, and get rid of that catheter and newly fitted Colostomy bag and after he had achieved all of that he would start concentrating on walking again.  
Lestrade wasn't an idiot, he knew that his plan only worked on his good days. Since he got shot he was prone to depressions. Especially when he was alone he kept thinking about his future and what would happen if he doesn't get full mobility back and was confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Or if he wasn't fit enough to return to his old job. That were the days were he kept pushing his limits, trying to get to his old self as soon as possible or when it was really bad refusing to take part at the physiotherapy session because he could just not see what they should be good for anyhow. He knew that it would only get worse as soon as he was out of the hospital and in an rehabilitation faculty. But he also knew that during the dark times he would always have his friends at his site who will show him his limits or push him when needed without making him feel like an idiot.  
“You OK?” Molly asked breaking the silence.  
“Right now I am,” Greg answered, “right now I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. It's the end of terms at the university and I had to learn for a couple of exams. And now I'm leaving for holidays :) Chapter 7 will most likely be up somewhen around end of June/ start of August. Thanks for all your kudos :)


	7. Chapter 7

Molly watched Greg sleep. She could see the lines of tension on his face and hoped that the scheduled dose of his painkillers soon will kick in. She shook her head. Even though Greg must have been in quite an amount of pain he had refused to take any extra pain medication.  
“ You stubborn idiot” Molly thought.  
His breathing was more laboured than it normally was and some sweat was forming on his forehead. She carefully wiped it away. Today had been a particularly hard and frustrating day for both of them.

 

* * *

 

When Molly had arrived at the hospital Greg was right at the middle of his daily physiotherapy session. He was doing breathing exercises to improve his respiration and to strengthen the muscles inside his chest .  
“Hi, I'm Stephen, Mr. Lestrade's Physiotherapist,” the man standing next to Greg's bed introduced himself. He was around 25 years old and had shoulder long blond hair which he wore in a ponytail. He looked more like a surfer than a physiotherapist.  
Greg waved slightly upon seeing her standing at the door and gestured her to come in. Molly closed the door behind her and moved the chair over to the left site of Greg's bed.  
“Hey Molly,” Greg greeted her after he finished his exercises.  
“Just one more session on my arms and abdomen and then I'm all yours,” he said spotting a strained smile and sounding a little out of breath.  
Molly nodded and smiled while the physiotherapist started out with some light exercises by asking Greg to move his arms in certain ways.

“What's the level of pain, Mr. Lestrade? You up for some more?” The young man asked after finishing the first round of exercise.  
“Not too bad actually. Think I can manage some more,” Greg said looking over to where Molly was sitting.  
If he was honest he was in a quite considerable amount of pain but Greg didn't want to show it. He hated it that he was still so dependent and couldn't really do anything on his own. He'd been stuck in this bed for nearly two months now and even though he had been unconscious most of the time and therefore couldn't remember most of it he wanted to get out of it as soon as possible. So he had decided to speed things up a bit by pushing his limits more and more.

After Greg had finished the second round of exercises the Physiotherapist asked again about the level of pain Greg was in just to make sure if he was really up for the even more painful session on his abdomen. His chest was burning from all the movements and his abdomen started to hurt from sitting upright for too long. But he wanted to follow through with his plan. Stephen had promised him to bring a wheelchair to the session on the next day if this one went well and maybe even try some walking exercises in a couple of days depending on the strength in Greg's arms and chest. So in Greg's mind that meant that he had to push himself hard to archive that no matter what the pain will be.  
“ 'm fine. Let's do it,” Greg replied, hoping that he sounded convincing enough.  
“You sure? We can move that to the later session, as planned,” Stephen asked, noticing that his patient looked like he was actually in quite some pain.  
“No, no. It's all good. Nothing I can't manage,” Greg said, getting slightly annoyed.  
Molly leaned forward and put a hand on Greg's arm. “Please, Greg, don't over do it. You need to...”  
“I don't need to do anything,” Greg snapped angrily pulling his arm away from Molly's touch. “I'm not a kid you know?” Raising his voice he looked at both Molly and Stephen. “I'm a grown man, I bloody know damn well what is good for me and what is not. I don't need people telling me that everyday. I had that for weeks now. From doctors, from therapists, from friends, I don't need that shit any more. It's my fucking body and I say when it is enough, not anybody else, do you understand?” All that shouting had left him out of breath and while he was busy trying to breath through the pain he didn't noticed the tears that began falling down on Molly's face.  
“I know it is a hard time you are are going through, Mr. Lestrade,” the Physiotherapist said, trying to calm the situation.  
“You are damn well right, it's fucking hell I'm going through,” Greg muttered still trying to catch his breath.  
“It's not always easy to notice what is good for your body and the healing progress and what is not.”   
Greg let out a grunt.  
“I understand that it's quite frustrating for you but as said before pushing too hard will only cause more damage and slow down your recovery. You know what we are going to do, Mr. Lestrade?” Greg shook his head.  
“We are not going to do any more exercises today but...”  
Greg, even though he was still not able to breath properly, tried to protest,  
“..but what I will do instead," Stephen continued, not giving his patient a change to word his disapproval, "is come around later this afternoon and I'll bring a wheelchair. How does that sound, Mr. Lestrade? Is that a deal?”   
“Deal” Greg gasped out.  
“Ok, I leave you two alone then and I will be back later today” Stephen said patting Greg's shoulder.  
Greg nodded reaching over to Molly to grab her hand. She hesitated a moment, still hurt by his sudden outburst. She knew that it was nothing personal and John had warned her that episodes like this will occur during Greg's recovery. This wouldn't probably be the last time and she knew that this where the times when Greg needed her the most, even though he couldn't show it.  
Greg noticed her hesitation and slowly withdrew his outstretched hand. He slightly regretted his sudden temper but all of this frustration just had to come out.  
“'m sry” he managed to get out, still trying to catch his breath. “just so...so frustrating”  
“I know, Greg, I know” Molly said.  
“Not really helping when you or others are...are telling me what” he was interrupted by a coughing fit which made his chest hurt even more. “Fucking lungs.” He continued, “just don't need it. 's hard enough when the...the doctors and therapists are telling me what my...” he paused to catch his breath, “my body is capable of doing. Can't take that from you as well at the moment. Please understand.” He looked at her, breathing heavily.  
“I understand” Molly answered, “but you also have to understand that we nearly lost you, twice.”  
Seeing the confused look on Lestrade's face she explained, “they had to resuscitate you twice. You went into cardiac arrest once at the scene and later during surgery. It was quite a touch and go for the first days. They didn't even know if you would make it. I don't know if anyone had told you this but during your stay in the ICU there were moments when we thought that there would be an other setback and that we were losing you but you pulled through them all." Molly took a deep breath. “I don't want to lose you again, Greg. It had hurt so badly seeing you lying there, barely conscious. Seeing the fear and confusion in your eyes, not really recognizing the people who were around you. Trying to calm you down when you were panicking, thinking the nurses or visitors were trying to hurt you. I'm not sure if I could handle it a second time. Not after all we went through. That's why I asked you to take it slow. I'll try to stop doing it f it makes you feel better but you have to listen to what your doctors and therapists are saying, can you promise me that?” Molly asked looking Greg straight into his brown eyes which were showing a mixture of pain, fear and anger. Tears began to form.  
No one had actually bothered to tell him that he nearly died twice and had to be resuscitated. He was not stupid, he knew that his injuries were quite severe but he didn't know that they thought that he might die. Or more truthfully he had never bothered to think about that.  
He couldn't remember much of his stay in the ICU, it was all really blurry and left him with an uncomfortable, kind of frightening feeling. He felt bad. Bad that he had hurt the people around him. He didn't meant to do that. He made a mental note that he had to talk about this topic with John and had to find out who else of his other friends had visited him in ICU.  
“'K” Greg finally answered. "S'pose I need to be...to be shown my boundaries from time to time. Sorry for hurt...hurting you. Didn't meant to. Just so bloody frus...frustrating being helpless.” He quickly wiped away the tear that started falling from his right eye, hoping that Molly hadn't noticed it. “And sorry for my behaviour in...in the ICU then. So so sorry. Didn't know about nearly dy...dying twice. Didn't know I scared you,” Greg said reaching out again to take Molly's hand.   
Molly noticed that Greg's hand was shaking, she didn't know if it was from exhaustion, the pain or because of the shock of what Molly just had told him. Moving closer to the bed she took his hand, kissed it gently, trying to avoid the IV line that went into it and held it against her chest.  
“Don't be sorry for this” she said. “The way you behaved in ICU wasn't you, it were the drugs and sedatives that were in your system.” She leant over and kissed his forehead. “It's all gone and forgiven now. You just concentrate on getting better without pushing yourself too hard, that's all I'm asking for.”  
Greg nodded. He knew Molly was right. He wasn't a young man any more. With 45 the body just needed more time for healing. He was lucky that he was quite fit so that the doctors assured him that there was a fair chance of him making a full recovery.  
But still there was the thing with his legs. Even though he had regained more and more feelings in them over the last few days, he still wasn't able to move them at all. And that really frightened him. Sure, the doctors were saying that his legs needed to remember how to work after a spinal injury and that it'll start as soon as they were beginning with the training on them. But still it didn't feel right.  
He could feel tears starting to dwell up again. “Shit, not now. Molly is here. Don't need her to see me cry” he thought to himself trying to keep the tears at bay.  
“What are you thinking about?” Molly asked, stroking his cheek and thereby casually wiped away a tear that had escaped his eye.  
“My useless legs” Greg answered truthfully. He had thought for a minute to lie about it but them dismissed the idea, thinking that it would be best to talk about the things that were bothering him.  
“Still no sign of movement returning. Probably will be in a wheelchair for...for the rest of my life. Never being able to re...return to my Job as a DI at Scotland Yard. What am I supposed to do then? What good am I then?”  
“No, don't say stuff like that,” Molly said. “Just wait until your rehabilitation program starts and then you will be on your feet in no time” Trying to cheer him up she added “you know I had a patient once with nearly the same spine injury like you have...”  
“Not really helping” Greg interrupted her, now spotting the faint of a smile “you only do post mortems, how is that supp...supposed to motivate me?”  
“Na-a, just wait,” Molly continued. “Well, yeah you are right he was dead, had been stabbed to death the poor bastard. But the important part of this story is, that what I could see from his files was that after he had injured his spine in an motorcycle accident he was able to walk with aids a couple of month later and had regained all his mobility back in what was like a little over a year. So you see? No reason to hang one's head. It may take a while but I'm quite sure that you'll make a full recovery”  
“Yeah, maybe” Greg answered, still not surely convinced.  
He was annoyed that he had allowed himself to be dragged down to these dark thoughts again and that he had bothered Molly with them. They should be having a good time during her visits. She was already worrying about him so much, he didn't need to burden her with his depressions as well.  
  
Molly rearranged her chair so that she was able to lay her head between Greg's neck and shoulder. For a moment they just lay there, both deeply absorbed in their own thoughts.  
After a while Greg stirred and thereby rubbed his head against Molly's. She chuckled.  
“Wha'?” Greg asked.  
“You do know, that you desperately need a shave? When was the last time?” Molly answered laughing.  
“Dunno, “ Greg carefully shrugged his shoulders.  
“Couple of days ago, I guess. My electrical razor broke. Then decided to give the bearded look a try. You don't like it?” he said smiling.  
“Not quite sure,” Molly admitted. “Bit prickly but I must say that it kinda does look good on you.” She gave him a kiss.“As long as it doesn't grow into a full ZZ Top style one I'm all good with it” Greg started to laugh which resulted in an other coughing fit. “Na, no worries about this. I think even if I would grow it a little...a little bit longer I would start to look stupid. Maybe as soon as I gained some weight back and had a decent haircut I...I might try again, but now I'm afraid I'll just look like some git instead of the ho...hoped for Sean Connery look. So probably going to shave soon anyway.“  
Molly let out a hearty laugh. Greg had indeed lost quite a lot of weight since he was shot and with his hair not being cut and styled for quite a while he would really look like someone sleeping under a bridge rather than a Detective Inspector from Scotland Yard. “That'll most likely be the case,” she said, still laughing. “But I've got to run some errands after work any ways and I'll have a look at Tesco and see if I find you a good razor with which you will be able to maintain a look that doesn't resemble Sherlock during his drug days.”  
“That sounds like a good idea,” Greg said, still laughing even though the pain in his chest and abdomen started to get worse again.  
Molly gave him an other kiss. “I'll be back around 6 or 7, depending on when I manage to get off work.”  
Greg, who wasn't able to control his coughing at the moment could only nod. Molly handed him a glass of water which he thankfully took. He managed to swallow a couple of gulps before he had to cough again. All this laughing really didn't helped his lungs.  
“Try to get some rest” Molly said putting the glass back on the bedside table.  
“Yeah,” Greg managed to rasp out “probably a good idea.”  
After Molly left his room he put down his headrest and tried to get at least a little sleep. He didn't think that he would have any luck, though. Because of his injuries the only way he was able to lie was on his back which normally wasn't his sleeping position.

 

* * *

 

A few days ago he had the stupid idea to try to roll onto his side. The exit wounds on his back had been aching and he desperately wanted to lie in a different position for once without having a sponge bath. He soon regretted even trying.  
Without being able to move his legs he hadn't been really able to get into a comfortable position so he had tried to bend over a little bit to grab his legs and move them to a better position using his already bent position to check on his status, well down there. And that had been the moment from which everything went downhill.  
A sudden pain had shot through his chest and abdomen and had made him flinching his arm back up. Unfortunately it had been under the tube which connected his catheter with the urine bag and the sudden upward movement had resulted in the catheter being nearly pulled out. The pain had been unbearable and Greg quickly had moved back on his back breathing heavily.  
At first Greg had thought about not letting anyone know about this episode but when the pain had gotten worse and he could see a little blood shining trough the fabric of his hospital blanked he had decided that'll probably would be the best to call for the nurse. She had arrived a couple of minutes later and Greg told her about his embarrassing mishap.  
The nurse had shook her head and told him to never try something that stupid again while she re-adjusted his catheter, of which he hadn't felt a thing, so so much for that he had thought annoyed, and got him a new blanket.  
Red-faced and embarrassed to his guts all Greg had been able to do was staring at the ceiling and hoping that it will be over soon.  
“You've also pulled some stitches on your little adventure, Mr. Lestrade,” the nurse had told him. “I'm going to have a doctor look over it later.”   
Greg just wanted to die. Could it get any worse?

 

* * *

 

“So lying on the back it is then,” Greg sighed while he tried to get at least a little bit comfortable.  
The pain still was pretty nasty and prevented him from fully relaxing so he switched on the TV and watched some daytime shows. He must have dosed off at one point because suddenly he was awoken by Stephen who was standing beside his bed.  
“Ready to drag your ass out of this bed, Mr. Lestrade?” Stephen asked, spotting a wide smile.  
“You bet I am,” Greg answered.  
“Oh and by the way, it's Greg.” He really liked that boy. The way he talked to him made him feel like a normal person and lacked all the pity and sorrow which always shined through when his friends and colleagues visited him. Even though they really tried to hide it Greg noticed that they behaved different around him since he was shot. And he hated it.  
“'K Greg, than let's start by getting you to sit upright. I'm slowly raising your headrest to get you in the right position.”  
Greg nodded.  
After Greg was brought up to a sitting position Stephen put a hand on his back to support him and then slowly moved his legs over the edge of the bed.  
“You all right?” Stephen asked.  
“Yeah, all good. Bit nervous, though,” Greg admitted.  
“That's perfectly normal,” Stephen reassured him. “It actually is quite a big step in your recovery progress, so you have every right to be nervous about it. Feeling any dizziness?”   
Greg shook his head.  
“'K then. I now want you to put your arms down at your site and give yourself a good push when I start lifting you up. OK?” Greg did as he was told and Stephen carefully put one arm around his waist, the other under his legs and slowly lifted the Detective Inspector up.  
“Wow, quite some strength you've have in your arms” Stephen smiled after he had seated Greg in the wheelchair, readjusting his legs and hooking the catheter and IV bags onto the chair.  
“Gimme a couple of days and I'll beat you at arm wrestling,” Greg laughed.  
“Challenge accepted,” Stephen replied laughing. “So were do you want to go?”  
“Somewhere outside would be nice,” Greg answered. “Would love to catch some fresh air.”  
“Sounds good to me. Courtyard or are you already up for a trip into the real world?” Stephen asked.  
Greg shook his head. No he wasn't really ready to face the outside world just yet. Not with all the equipment dangling around and him being so helpless.  
“Courtyard is just fine,” he answered.  
“Cool, but you better put on a zip hoody. We don't want any turmoil caused by the ladies going crazy at the sight of a hot bare chested guy being pushed around by an even hotter one, do we?”  
“As if..” Greg laughed.  
  
A couple of minutes later Greg was wearing a grey zipped hoody which matched the sweatpants he, after some discussion with the nurses, was now allowed to wear instead of the dreaded hospital gown.

“Let's go then” Stephen started to turn around the wheelchair and pushed Greg out of his room to the elevators.

 

* * *

 

Greg had never thought how great it would feel to be outside and to catch some fresh air. Even though the fresh air was still polluted Whitechapel air it felt awesome in his lungs. He took a deep breath which resulted in a coughing fit.  
“Easy there, boy,” Stephen said laying a hand on Greg's shoulder.  
“So do you want me to push you around a little bit or do you want to find a nice place and relax there for a while?”  
“Na, pushing around sounds good,” Greg answered. "Been stationary for too long.”  
“That's true,” Stephen agreed.

Stephen had pushed him around for like 15 minutes when Greg noticed that the pain in his chest and abdomen started to get worse but he didn't want to return to his room just yet. And even though he felt uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed to be pushed around he enjoyed it to be not confined to his hospital bed for once. So he kept quiet.  
“I think it's time to return you to your room, Greg,” Stephen said carefully some time after he noticed that the change of breathing and the slight strain in the voice of his patient when they talked was getting worse.  
Seeing the disappointment on Greg's face he added “You've done really good for your first trip. 30 Minutes, that's quite a long time actually. We're going to do an other trip tomorrow and I heard that there was talk to transfer you to a rehabilitation facility soon to get you back on your feet.”  
Greg's face lit up. “Really?” he asked turning as much as he could in his wheelchair to look Stephen in the face. He couldn't really believe it. It just sounded just to good to be true. Going to rehab meant that his wounds had healed enough so that he can work on walking again.  
“Really! “ Stephen confirmed. “Our Job here now is to make sure that your wounds heal nicely, start some light exercises on your legs and work on your lungs so that you stop sounding like some old chain smoker every time you exercise a little or take a too deep breath.”   
Greg chuckled.  
“So let's go back inside,” Stephen said pushing Greg back into the building.  
“Nothing I could do against it, could I? I'm completely at your mercy, ” Greg said still chuckling.

On their way back to his room they bumped into Molly who just exited the other elevator.  
“Oh Greg, I see you are on wheels now,” she greeted him cheerfully. “What a pity that I missed your first trip,” Molly said giving Greg a kiss on his forehead.  
“There will be plenty more first times” Greg assured her. What he particularly was thinking about was hopefully the first time walking with aids and more importantly the first time walking without any help. That were the moments where he wanted her at his site.

The transfer from the wheelchair back to the bed was quite painful and Greg had to bite back a painful groan before he finally was settled back to a comfortable position. Stephen asked if he should get the nurse to give him some unscheduled pain medication as he seemed to be in quite some pain. Greg shook his head. This stuff always made him drowsy and somewhat dazed and he just wanted to spent as much time with Molly today as possible. For the next days she had to work during the visiting hours and she couldn't say if she was able to make it over during her lunch break, so they most likely only were able to see each other again at the coming weekend.  
“You sure you don't need any painkillers, Greg?” Molly asked after Stephen had left the room.  
“No, not that bad now, actually” He tried to smile. “Had a great time finally get...ting out of this room” Greg said, trying to move the conversation to a different direction.  
“I quite believe it,” Molly answered, still not fully convinced that Greg was fine. “Where did you two go?”  
“Just to the courtyard. Was an awesome fe..feeling to breath fresh air and to feel the...the sun on my skin,” Greg answered with bright eyes. “Can't wait to...to get out again.”  
“I can imagine,” she replied happy to see Greg in such a cheerful mood. “It was a particularly nice day today too.”  
“Probably would...would have even love...loved it if it ...if it had rained” The smile on his face couldn't hide the fact that he was really worn out from his trip in the wheelchair and that talking really needed an ridiculous amount of strength.  
Molly noticed it as well and thought that it would be the best if Greg would get some rest but didn't want to push him on that topic. She didn't want to trigger an other outburst like the one in the morning and destroy the good mood he was in after finally being allowed out of bed and thus making a small step towards independence.  
“That would've been quite a sight then” she laughed. “They would've probably transferred you to the loony ward right away.” Greg chuckled.“Oh by th..the way. What I wanted to...to tell you. Stephen said that th...there was talk ab...about transferring me to a reha...rehabilitation facility soon,” Greg said spotting a proud smile. “Said that I'm doing...really well. Strength and all tha...that stuff. Just need the injuries to...to heal to a certain level so that I can move with...without being in too much pain and...and out of breath so quickly.”  
“Greg! These are great news!” Molly gave him a hug, carefully avoiding the wounds on his chest. She looked at him smiling. That was the confident boost he just needed. He had been feeling down quite often lately especially after his doctor had to check and redo some of Greg's stitches a couple of days ago. God knows how he had managed to pull them but it was something Greg didn't want to talk about with her.

 

* * *

 

She had just arrived at the hospital after work and was talking about how annoying Sherlock was lately when there had been a knock on the door and his doctor had entered.  
“The nurses told me that you had managed to pull some of your stitches, Mr. Lestrade? Care to explain how you managed that?”  
Greg looked over to Molly and slowly shook his head. “No, would prefer not to,” he had said quietly.  
“Very well then, but whatever it was do not repeat it. The first round of restitching is for free, the following will cost a Pint for each stitch.”   
Greg had let out a grunt.  
“So now let me see the damage,” the doctor had said removing the dressings from Greg's chest and abdomen.  
That was the first time Molly had sawn the real extend of his injuries. A long incision ran down in the middle of his chest. Starting just below the the collarbones it went nearly all way down to his stomach. On both sites of the chest the entry wounds of the bullets were clearly visible. The incision on his abdomen just stopped short of the one on his chest and went down to his pubic area. She could see that the bullet had entered right in the middle of his stomach.  
It was different seeing them for real. She knew that they were there, but they had each been covered with dressings so she hadn't really wasted any thoughts on what it would look like beneath them.  
She had really tried to look as casual as possible but the shock must had been quite visible on her face because after the doctor had left after he was finished with his work and had put new dressings on, Greg whispered “See, I look horrible with all these scars. I will never be normal again.” What followed had been a serious episode of self-pity and Molly had found it very hard to convince him that she will love him no matter what and that a few scars, which will fade anyway over time, will not make him somewhat different.

 

* * *

 

This in mind she was really happy about the progress Greg was making and that he'll be out of this hospital soon. And Greg seemed so too. Even though he was exhausted and in pain from this day's activities he was smiling and was talking about what facility he would probably go to. Which would be best and covered by his health insurance.  
“I'll ask around what the best choices around London would be and get you some info material,” she promised him. “ Now what about some semi-cuddling and watching some telly? I don't know about you but I'm actually quite knackered from work. And there is till a little over an hour of visiting time left.”  
“OK, anything particularly you want to watch?” Greg asked stroking Molly's head she had now rested carefully on his shoulder.   
“Na, whatever you fancy” she replied.  
Greg switched through the channels and got stuck on a Top Gear rerun.  
It didn't take long and sleep claimed Greg leaving Molly to watch his chest raise and fall during his laboured breathing. He still wasn't out of the woods completely and he mustn't strain his body too hard. There were still chances of serious re-injuries to his lungs or his guts but for the moment now she was just happy that he was alive and about the progress he had made in the last couple of weeks. Nobody wanted to admit it but during his first week in the ICU everyone around Greg expected to get the dreaded call every minute. That he pulled through was actually a little miracle and while she gently wiped away some of the sweat that had been forming on his forehead she quietly whispered in his ear: “You know I'll always be there for you. No matter what the future holds. Just keep talking to me and I promise I'll help you the best I can.” She gave him a kiss and made her way back home.


	8. Chapter 8

Greg's wounds had finally healed to a level where he was able to move around without having to fear to cause harm to his injuries and didn't need acute medical care.This caused his physiotherapists to decide that it was time to work on his  mobility and therefore to relocate him to a rehabilitation facility.  
Greg was lucky that he landed a spot in the Spinal Cord Centre of the Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital, one of the best facilities in the UK. He had the slight suspicion that Sherlock or better Mycroft had something to do with it. He had to have a serious conversation about that with the two of them later.

The facility was only a short ride away which Greg loathed non the less. It was one thing to be pushed around in a wheelchair but lying on a wheeled stretcher still hooked up to the IVs and all that stuff in the public was something that made Greg really feel like an invalid even though it would only be the way from and to the waiting ambulance.

There had been long and tiring discussions with the doctors, his therapist, with John and Molly were he had tried to convince them that he was perfectly able to make this journey sitting down not lying on a stretcher. But he stood no chance, the nurses always told him something about hospital policy and the doctors and John told him that even though the injury to his spine had healed to that point, that he could take short trips in a wheelchair around the hospital there was always the chance of re-injury during a bumpy car ride and that there was always a chance of a traffic accident so they had to make sure that he is as secure as possible. A vivid description of the consequences if his spine got damaged again, namely slimming down the chances to ever walk again significantly, made Greg succumb to his fate.

 

* * *

 

When the day of his discharge had finally arrived Molly was unfortunately away for work so John offered to accompany him. Greg had long given him and Molly his spare keys to his apartment so that they were able to get him stuff he needed from home and sort out his mail. His ex-wife had moved with his sons up to Scotland so they had only visited on an irregular basis on weekends.

“Ready to go?” John asked stepping into Greg's room. He was carrying a huge duffel-bag which contained the personal belongings Greg would need during his stay in the rehab facility.  
“God yes. Nearly couldn't sleep last night out of excitement,” Greg said spotting a huge smile.  
“Yeah, was the same for me when they finally discharged me after I got shot,” John said nodding.  
“But you lucky bastard probably were allowed to go straight home and not being stuck at rehab for months after,” Greg chuckled.  
“You wanna start a who-got-wounded-worse-war?” John laughed. “Sorry, mate but I'm out. You win this by far.”  
The both laughed until Greg had to cough again.  
“Lungs still not healed properly then?” John asked concerned.  
“Nah, they still keep bothering me. Docs said that it will most likely still take quite a while but as long as I'm not overdoing it at rehab I'll be fine,” Greg answered  
“As if there would ever be the danger of that with you, eh?” John said eyeing the Detective Inspector.  
“Ha-ha, John. I'm well aware that I have to find a good balance between pushing myself but also give my body the time it needs to heal. So would you now please help me collect all my stuff around here so that I don't forget anything?”  
John smiled and opened the wardrobe which was situated on the opposite site of the room.

They were nearly finished and John put the books and magazines the DI had already read into a different bag when a nurse entered Greg's room.  
“Oh, I see you've already packed, Greg,” he said while making his way towards Lestrade's bed.  
“Hey Toby!” Lestrade greeted the nurse.  
“I'm going to prepare you for your journey. Updating your stats and change the dressings and your catheter bag to a portable one as well as up the dosage of your pain medication.“ Noticing Greg's puzzled look Toby added “It's because the journey will most likely cause some grade of discomfort and we just want you to feel as comfortable as possible during your trip.” He smiled and started to work.  
“I'm going to find me something to eat in the cafeteria,” John said to give Greg the privacy he needs, “do you want anything?”  
“Thanks, I'm fine. Still on a strict diet. But if you could get me a bottle of water that would be great.”  
“Got that,” John replied and left the room.  
  
After Toby was finished with his duties he padded Greg on his shoulder. “OK, you are ready to leave now, Greg. You know that you'll be greatly missed by my female colleagues? You caused quite a stir there.”  
Greg raised one eyebrow: “huh?”  
Toby laughed. “You were pretty popular with them. You know how they called you over at the nurse station? Silver Fox.”  
Greg could feel his face turning bright red. That was really embarrassing. “Silver Fox?” he croaked.  
Toby let out a loud laugh. “Yeah, Silver Fox. As far as I know it started over at the ICU and accidentally caught on here when an ICU nurse asked how their Silver Fox was doing.”  
Greg smiled. Despite his embarrassment he was kind of flattered that he still was good with the ladies. But still he genuinely hoped that the term didn't caught on over at rehab. “I'm sure they'll find a nice replacement soon.”  
“Replacement of what?” John asked standing in the door frame.  
“Nothing...nothing of importance” Greg quickly replied. He could feel his head starting to get light from the pain medication. He really didn't like to be under the influence of heavy painkillers. He was prone to talk nonsense and even worse say out things that were supposed to be secrets. He was secretly happy that he was intubated while he was heavily medicated, God knows what secrets he would have blabbered out otherwise. And as soon as he was allowed to talk he had tried to keep the medications at bay while he had visitors. He hoped that the dosage wasn't that high that it would happen on the ride to rehab.  
“All done here,” Toby said. “I'll let the guys from transportation know that you are ready to be transferred.”  
“Thanks, “ Greg said, holding out a hand. “Thank you for your great work and please tell that the other nurses who cared for me as well. I felt really really comfortable in your care even if I sometimes couldn't show it and snapped at you or denied to comply your instructions. Sorry for that.“  
Toby took Greg hand and shook it. “Nah, don't be sorry. We had far worse patients than you, Greg. And even though I'm going to say that I hope that I'll never see you again you know it's just on the professional level, meaning I hope that you'll never become a patient again. Oh and by the way - law enforcement officers are never really easy to deal with but you did quite well as a matter of fact,” he said with a cheeky smile. “Good bye and keep on fighting.”  
Greg smiled back. He had really looked forward to get out of this hospital but know that the time had come he wasn't really sure if he was ready to go to a totally different environment with new nurses, doctors and therapists and new rules to get accustomed to. Greg had to admit that he was now slightly afraid.

A couple of minutes later he had been transferred to a stretcher and was wheeled through the hospital into the waiting ambulance.

 

* * *

 

Upon arrival at the rehab facility Greg was transferred from the ambulance to a wheelchair and brought into the reception area of the facility. He was pretty worn out from the trip. His whole body ached despite the painkillers he was given and he just longed to get to a more comfortable position.  
But first he had to go through the whole admission progress, signing what felt like tons of papers and being handed an information leaflet and his rehabilitation schedule.  
“Wow, that's nearly more paperwork than I have to deal with at the Yard.” Greg said laughing while handing back the signed papers. “Let's hope that it doesn't involve any criminals.” Greg took a look at his schedule and frowned. His whole days were planed out with all different kinds of therapy sessions starting right after breakfast in the morning and going on until the evening with only short rest times in between.  
“This won't be a holiday then,” he said jokingly.  
“No it won't, Mr. Lestrade,” Mrs. Armand, the head nurse which was assigned to him replied, looking at him with a serious face. “We expect from you that you comply to our rules and that you work hard.”  
“Will you tell my parents if I get caught smoking?” Greg had the habit to make jokes every time he felt uncomfortable to ease up the tension. Normally it worked quite well but this time it only earned him a disapproving look from Mrs. Armand.  
Greg offered her one of his disarming smiles: “They probably won't be able to pick me up though as they live a couple of hours away.”  
There was still no sign of a smile on the face of the nurse. “Mr. Lestrade, it is really important that you approach this matter with at least some kind of seriousness. You have to understand that the concept of physical therapy only works if you, as the patient, are willing to work hard. This is not meant as a nice holiday after your hospital stay.”  
Greg could see John shooting him a sympathetic look. “Yeah, I actually do know that,” he said annoyed. “It was just meant as a joke, you know?”   
“What a great start,” he thought to himself. He started to hate the nurse right away. She was nearly fifty with shoulder length grey hair and a look on her face that showed that she hated her job and hadn't had a good laugh for years. “And sex probably,” Greg thought and immediately regretted it as he was now unable to get the pictures out of his head. He cringed and hoped that the rest of his rehab team would be more friendly and more importantly will have at least some sort of humour. “When will I meet the rest of the team?”  
“In a couple of hours,” Mrs. Armand answered. “First we've got to show you your room and give you some time to settle in. Then in the early afternoon we have scheduled a meeting with your therapists. Your boyfriend can attend as well if he wants to.” She said looking strangely over to John.  
Greg let out a loud laugh. “No no, he's not my boyfriend. Just a good friend who offered to accompany me.”  
John looked somewhat uncomfortable, standing in the back with Greg's bag over his shoulder.  
“So what are these recreational offers then?” Greg asked turning around to the nurse who started to push him towards the lift.  
“We offer a variety on sports, events and trips in which you can participate on weekends or in the evenings.” Mrs. Armand replied.  
The doors of the lift opened with a ping and Greg, the nurse and John entered.  
“That sounds great,” Greg said looking up at John and the nurse. “Definitely going to try them out. Missing to do some sports.”

They arrived at the floor on which Greg room was located and the nurse manoeuvred him out of the lift and down the corridor.  
“You'll have the room number 2-12” Mrs. Armand said while opening the door and moving Greg towards the bed which was situated on the left site of the room.  
Greg took a look around. It was a nice bright room with a balcony which overlooked the adjourned park. The bed didn't looked like a hospital bed except for the bed gallow. A TV was mounted to the wall at the end of the bed. On the other site of the room was a wardrobe and next to it a table with two chairs. The door to the private bathroom was right next to the entrance.  
“Ok, Mr. Lestrade here we are. Do you want to be moved to the bed or do you want to stay in the wheelchair?” Mrs. Armand asked.  
“Nah, I want to stay in the chair a bit longer. Want to check out the view from the balcony. John will help me when I want to lie down, won't you?” Greg said looking over to John who had seated himself on one of the chairs.  
“What? Yeah of course. He's in good hands,” John said snapping out of his thoughts.  
“Well Ok then. I'm going to pick you up in 3 hours for the meeting.” Mrs. Armand said putting the key down on the table before leaving the room.  
Greg slowly made his way towards the balcony door when John suddenly exploded. “What is it that people always think that I'm gay? What?”  
Greg jumped upon the sudden outburst and struggled to turn the wheelchair around.  
“John calm down, she's a bloody old hag. And if it soothes you what she said also implied that I'm gay as well. And boy wouldn't we actually be a dream couple?” Greg said spotting a wide smile. “But I'm afraid you have to get past Molly first”  
John laughed. “Yeah, you're right. It really shouldn't bother me. It just gets annoying you know. I always thought that it's because of Sherlock but now I realized that it's because of me.”  
Greg chuckled. “ Well maybe it's because you always surround yourself with bloody good looking guys like Sherlock and me.”  
“You wish.”  
Greg put his hands over his heart and made a hurt face. “Don't insult the invalid,” he said faking an insulted tone. “Now would you please help me to get out on the balcony. I really want to check the view.”  
John got up and opened the balcony door to make it possible for Greg to wheel him self out.  
“Wow,” Greg said, leaning forward in his chair putting his elbows on his thighs and his hands under his chin. A huge park stretched out in front of him. “Good think that the summer is starting. Definitely going to get some tan back on this balcony”  
“Yeah you really could use to get some colour back. You still look like death warmed over. How long is your planed stay here?”  
Greg cleared his throat: “Well they say initially 4 month and then they see how much progress I made during that time and for how long more inpatient PT will make sense. So basically no clue.” A bitter smile crossed his face.  
John send an encouraging smile towards Greg.. “Not knowing sucks. But I'm pretty sure that you'll be ready to go home after the initial 4 months. Shall we start unpacking?”  
“Yeah, good idea,” Greg answered. “Kinda need to lie down as well. Think the pain meds are wearing off.”  
“Let's get you inside and in bed then,” John said turning around Greg's wheelchair.  
After they finished unpacking John helped Greg from his wheelchair to the bed. Greg let out a big yawn. “Thanks John.”  
“No worries, do you want me to stay for the team meeting?”  
“Nah, it's Ok. I think I'll manage. Going to sleep a bit now anyway so you would just be bored.” Greg moved himself to a more comfortable position. “But feel free to visit me any time you want.”  
“Of course, maybe I come by this weekend if it's Ok with you.” John said walking towards the door.  
“Yeah, weekend's fine. Molly will be here on Friday and my parents on Saturday and Sunday. So just pop by whenever you've got the time.”  
John opened the door. “Will do.”

After John left Greg felt utterly afraid. He couldn't explain why but suddenly he burst into tears. All this uncertainty really niggled him. He was afraid what the outcome of his stay at rehabilitation will be. He was afraid that the rest of the team he had to work with was as horrible as the nurse and mainly he was afraid that he just couldn't manage all of the trials and tribulations that lay ahead of him. “Come on, pull yourself together,” he said to himself, drying his tears and taking as deep breaths as his lungs allowed him. He reached over to the remote control and switched on the TV to distract himself. Luckily it didn't took long until sleep claimed him.

 

* * *

 

He was woken rather rude by Mrs. Armand who came to pick him up for the team meeting. Slightly disorientated it took Greg quite a while to remember where he was.

“Time to get up, Mr. Lestrade,” she said preparing to transfer Greg to the wheelchair.  
Greg rubbed his eyes: “Wha'? Oh yes, right.” He slowly moved himself into a sitting position. A young woman was standing behind Mrs. Armand.   
“Hi, I'm Ella,” she introduced herself.  
“Ella is still in training and is going to help me to get you into your wheelchair.” Mrs. Armand explained.  
Greg smiled at her and nodded.  
Together they moved him quickly to his chair and wheeled him out of the room.

The team members were really nice and actually shared Greg's sense of humour so he got his hopes up that his time at rehab won't be all hell.  
His therapists explained him is physical therapy schedule and what else he would be learning during his stay. Greg was slightly irritated when he was told that his schedule included not only regular wheelchair handling but also training to use the wheelchair outside of the rehab facility like on public transport and so on as well as learning how to live independently.  
“Why would I need that?” he asked looking around. “I...I thought that I'm here to learn to walk again?” The bad feeling in his stomach he had earlier returned.  
“Yes, you are,” Robert his wheelchair trainer explained. “Our main focus will be to get you back on your feet again but please remember that it will take a long time and hard work until you will be able to walk without any aids and that using a wheelchair will be the easiest method of getting around for quite a while even if you are able to walk with aids. And then there is always the possibility that we won't achieve that at all. And we want you to be prepared for all possibilities.”  
“B..b..but...I..I thought...the doctors back at hospital said that...that...well they said that the chances I will be able to walk again are fairly good.” Greg stammered.  
“They are, Greg. But you can never be 100 percent sure with spinal injuries. That's why,” his main physical therapist replied.  
Greg looked shattered.  
“I know it's hard to get accustomed to a situation like that and accept that there might be changes to your daily routines but we are all here to help you as much as possible and to get you back to your old life.” His psychologist said walking over to Greg. He got down onto his knees and put his hands on Greg's shoulders. “I understand that you are a police officer and that you are afraid that you might not been able to return to your old position?”  
Greg nodded. “Yeah, they wouldn't keep a Detective Inspector who's in a wheelchair or can't walk properly.”  
“Well, I can tell you they do. So that's no reason to hang one's head, Ok? Let's just forget that for now and just concentrate on getting you mobile. You'll have your first PT session shortly after this meeting, I think,” the psychologist said looking over to Greg's physiotherapists who nodded affirmatively.

 

* * *

 

PT was really hard. At first Greg had to learn how to manoeuvre himself without the use of his legs. How to transfer himself from the bed to the wheelchair and vice versa.  
When he first practised moving himself Greg hesitated to roll on his side. He only vividly remembered the incident when he tried that by himself back in hospital and because of the fact that he still had his catheter he was afraid that something like that would happen again.  
“Greg, the only way to get you out of this bed without any help is with beginning to roll onto your site and to learn how to position your legs,” Dan, his physiotherapist said insistently.  
“Yeah but I've seen other patients doing a different method. Why can't I learn that technique?” Greg asked sullenly.  
“Because the other patients didn't caught three bullets and have sufficient strength in their arms and upper body to perform such task. You don't have that for now and we don't want to cause any re-injuries in your chest or abdomen just because you refused to roll onto your side. So it's either my way or you are going to be bed ridden for quite a while because I'm not going to help you invalid getting out of bed then.” Dan said, spotting a warm smile beside his harsh words. He had dealt with patients like Greg before and knew what kind of prep talk they needed.

Greg closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. “Yeah, guess your right. Let's start then, shall we?”  
It took him a couple of tries but finally Greg managed to position himself and his legs near the edge of his bed.  
“Well done, see wasn't that bad at all, was it? Now let's try to sit up and move your legs over the edge to get you into that wheelchair, Ok?”  
Greg nodded and after some tries and with help from Dan he was able to manoeuvre himself into the wheelchair.  
“Great Job, Greg!” Dan praised. “A couple more training sessions and you'll be able to do that all by yourself.”   
Greg looked up at him, a proud smile on his lips.   
“So now that you are already seated lets get you down to your PT session on your legs,” Dan continued undoing the breaks. “Do you want to push yourself or do I get the honour?”  
“Nah, I wanna do it. Not that worn out that I couldn't manage.” Greg said and slowly made his way to the escalator.

 

* * *

 

But the elation of the first try quickly faded away when Greg decided that it was now time to ditch Dan's help and try it by himself. He managed to move around the bed and sit up on the edge quite easily now but he just couldn't move himself into the wheelchair without somebody supporting him.  
Greg had never thought that it would actually be this hard to learn and he got really frustrated after a couple of days. How would he ever manage to re-learn walking when he wasn't even able to get his own invalid ass out of the bed.  
Dan assured him that it'll take it's time till he found the right technique for himself and some of the guys he befriended during the group sessions told him they as well had trouble transferring themselves at first but soon enough got the hang of it.

 

* * *

 

It was his first group therapy session and Greg was unsure about how much to give away on how he sustained his injury and if he should tell that he works at Scotland Yard.  
“Well I'm Gregory Lestrade and... “ he began.  
The guy next to him noticed his hesitation and even before the therapist could say something blurted out: “Aren't you this copper from that serial suicide killings a couple of years ago? I think I remember you from the telly.”   
Greg drew in a sharp breath. That hadn't been his shiniest moment back then.  
“Mark!” the therapist rebuked him. “Give the people the time they need and don't interrupt them. You could have perfectly asked Gregory that question in private.”   
Mark threw is head back and mumbled something that sounded like an apology.  
“No, it's Ok, honestly. There's nothing secret about my occupation.” Greg said, looking around the circle they were sitting in. “So yeah I'm a Detective Inspector with Scotland Yard and I sustained my spinal cord injury in the line of duty when I got shot.” It felt strange saying it out aloud. He never had to before. The people he talked with before all knew how he got injured so he never really actually had to say that he got shot. It suddenly felt more real. The images from that day began to come back. He started breathing heavily and his eyes moved back and forth.  
“Do you want to talk about the attack?” the therapist asked carefully.  
Greg looked down at his feet: “ No, I'm not ready yet,” he said in a low voice.  
“That's Ok, Gregory. Whenever you are ready.” The therapist smiled at him encouragingly.  
Greg nodded still not looking up. He was afraid that people could see the tears that threatened to form in his eyes.  
“Ok then, who's next? Ah yes Lee. Anything particular you want to talk about today?”  
Greg didn't really listen to Lee blabbering away. He was still trying to regain his composure.  
Suddenly he felt a tug on his right sleeve. Mark leaned over and whispered in his ear: “Don't worry. I actually cried at my first session. Hard to believe I know, but I did. It suddenly makes it feel real, doesn't it.?”  
Greg looked up and met Marks eyes. “Yes,” he said quietly, “it does.”  
“Whenever you need someone to talk to who is not a probing therapist, just let me know. Oh and by the..”  
“Mark!” the therapist interrupted him.  
“Game of Poker tonight 8pm, my room 3.07. Come if you like,” he said quickly before leaning back. “Sorry, won't happen again.” Mark said raising his hands in a defensive manner.

 

* * *

 

Right after his wheelchair mobility training Greg made is way up to Mark's room. He was slightly nervous not knowing who else would be there.  
He knocked and clumsily made his way into the room.  
“Ah you must be the new guy then,” a boy in his early twenties greeted him.  
“Yeah, hi I'm Greg.” Greg said looking around. The room was pretty much like his. The table had been moved into the centre of the room and 4 men were sitting around it. He slowly rolled himself towards the table and positioned his wheelchair between Mark and a somewhat 30ish old looking man he knew from his wheelchair training but couldn't remember the name.  
Mark lay a hand on his shoulder: “Welcome to our little group. We meet regularly to either play games or play some basketball and stuff on the weekends. We tried musical chairs once for Daniel's birthday but it didn't really worked out as there was no looser,” Mark laughed nodding over to the man opposite of Greg. “The kid's name is Philip and next to you is Andrew. “  
Greg looked around slightly waving his hand. “Hi.”  
“And this, ladies and gentlemen, is Detective Inspector Lestrade. So you better get your sunglasses out, I'm pretty sure that this man is good in calling bluffs.”  
Greg looked away, slightly abashed. “Nah, I'm actually not that good at poker. I'm one of the first out every time.”  
“Detective Inspector?” Philip asked sounding equally amazed and tense. “So you're a copper then?”  
“Yes, with Scotland Yard. But obviously not on duty right now so nothing to fear,” he laughed.  
“Shall we start then?” Mark asked handing out the cards.  
As predicted Greg was out pretty quick. So he rolled himself a little bit away from the table and watched the game.  
“So how did you got injured, Greg? We've got 2 car accidents, one motorcycle crash and a fall so far. What fucked up your life?”Andrew asked after he was out of the game as well.  
Greg could feel his heart beat going faster and is palms getting sweaty. He rubbed his hands on his sweatpants and took a deep breath. “A bullet,” he finally managed to get out. “Well three bullets actually.”  
“You don't have to if it's still too traumatic.”  
“No, I think talking about it will help,” he said running his fingers nervously through his hair. “A person of interest shot me 3 times during an interview. Two bullets hit me in the chest and went right through but the third bullet, the one that hit me in the stomach, lodged itself in my spine.” Greg's lips were forming a sad smile. “I've been told that I'm lucky that I'm even alive.”  
”Fuck!” Daniel suddenly blurted out. “That's fucked up man. Did he just do it out of the blue? Didn't you wear any body amour?”  
“No you don't normally wear them when you are a DI. Only if the situation requires it. And as that guy wasn't even a suspect I didn't wasted any thoughts about safety precautions. Well I do know better now.” Greg let out a forced laugh. He could feel the anxiety raising the longer he kept thinking about that day.  
“And...and what is the extent of you injuries, if you don't mind me asking?” Philip asked carefully.  
“Both lungs badly injured, multiple broken rips and injuries in the abdomen. Nearly 3 weeks in ICU, over 6 hellish weeks of intubation. As for my spine I've got an incomplete injury to L3. Doctors say that there is a chance, that I'll be able to walk again and might be able to return to my old job.”  
“Good God,” Philip breathed out.  
“I was intubated for a couple of days and was already going crazy. I can only imagine what you had been going through,” Andrew said sympathetically. “But it's good news that there is a chance of you walking again. For me there is nearly no hope.”  
“We're gonna kick your ass until you walk, Greg. At least one of us has to leave this clinic on his own feet.” Mark laughed.  
“I was afraid you would. So know that you know my story I would like to hear yours.”  
They kept talking for quite a while until Greg decided that it was time for him to get to bed. His painkillers were wearing off and he could feel the pain in his chest and abdomen getting worse.

He had really enjoyed the interaction with people who were in the same situation as he was. People who had the same problems and fears. He really had needed that. It was always nice talking to Molly, John and his other friends but they never could fully understand what he was going through. They tried but how could they know how it feels not knowing if you'll ever be able to walk again. This peer group he just found, they knew. With them he felt safe.

So in the evenings he met with his new found friends and together they practised and gave him tips about the ways they were doing it. That really helped and he soon managed to transfer himself from the bed to the wheelchair without any help.  
“See, I told you you can do it” Mark, a 44 year old bar manager who had injured his spinal cord in a motorcycle accident, said clapping Greg heartily on his shoulder. “I think we should celebrate this with a tiny drop of alcohol. What do you think?”  
Greg repositioned himself so that he faced Mark directly. “You do know that it is forbidden to have alcohol on this premisses?”  
“I think they say the same about work related files, Detective Inspector.” Mark replied, tilting his head towards the table where some old case files lay. “Your colleagues bring you this kind of things from work, my colleagues liquid stuff.”  
Greg looked over to the table and let out a sigh. Finally after long discussions with Sally he had persuaded her to bring him some of his old cases to have a look into them. “I would really love to have a sip of a nice whiskey or some beer but I'm still on pretty heavy painkillers and even the tiniest bit of alcohol will knock me out, I'm afraid,” Greg said showing Mark his IV cannula. “But let's keep that in mind, I'm pretty sure we'll be here for quite some time. I'll definitely take you up on your offer later.”  
“Ok, then,” Mark said, rolling himself towards the door. “We'll see each other tomorrow at breakfast then I suppose?”  
“Yeah see you tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

At the end of the week Greg was completely worn out from his PT sessions. His pain medications were reduced as they planed to switch from IV to pills during the next week. As a result of it his injuries did hurt a bit more after his sessions.

So when Mark and co. asked him at lunch if he wanted to join them on a game of basketball he politely declined. “Sorry, not today. I would be with you tomorrow.”  
“Yeah, no worries, Mark replied. “We'll definitely play again tomorrow. I think 1pm was it, wasn't it?” Andrew nodded. “Right, so feel free to come down to the basketball court when you're up to it.”  
“Definitely!”  
  
After lunch Greg grabbed a book and made his way out to the park to wait for Molly to arrive. He had an other PT session later this afternoon but Molly could watch if she was up to it. He found himself a nice spot in the sun, texted Molly were he was to be found and started reading.  
  
When Molly arrived nearly an hour later she found Greg fast asleep. The book had fallen onto his lap and his head was slumped on his chest. She smiled and took the book to see what Greg was reading. She settled herself on the bench next to him and looked at the book cover. She hadn't heard of that book before and from it's description it seemed to be some kind of thriller. She put the book away and gently touched Greg's shoulder. “Wakey wakey,” she said softly.  
Greg let out a small grunt and slowly moved his head up. He looked around somewhat disorientated.  
“Morning sunshine,” Molly laughed when Greg looked at her with sleepy eyes.  
“Hey,” he slowly ran his hands over his face. “How long have you been here?”  
“Not long, a couple of minutes at most,” she said. “How was your nap?”  
Greg moved his head from side to side. “Not really comfortable I must admit. What do you want to do? I've got an hour left till my next session starts,” he said looking at his watch.  
“Hmm. Don't know. Do you fancy walking around the park a little?” Molly stood up. Noticing what she just said she turned bright red. “Oh god, I don't mean walking. I mean uhm I mean...god I'm so awful. I didn't meant to...”  
“Molly! Molly, it's all right. You have to get used to this situation as much as I do. It's Ok. You don't have to apologize. I'm not offended. You walk, I roll.”  
“Uhm shall I or...or can you, I mean are you able to..” She didn't know how to phrase it without risking to make him feel helpless. The last time she had seen Greg back at the hospital he had still been quite weak and was barely able to push himself but he looked so much better now.  
Greg took her hand. “No, it's Ok. I can push myself. I gained quite some strength in the last week.” He smiled at her and undid the breaks. “I'll let you know when I need your help.”

Together they slowly strolled through the park talking about her and his week so far.  
“How is it going?” Molly asked.  
“It is really hard work but I can feel myself getting stronger from day to day. Recently I just learned how to transfer myself without any help so I'm gaining more and more independency. That really kept my spirits up during the week.” Greg said smiling.  
“That's awesome.” Molly exclaimed. “See I told you that these things will come if you just give yourself the time needed. Didn't I?”  
“As always you were right,” Greg said jokingly. “Met some really nice people as well who really help me cope with all of this. We often meet up after our sessions and just talk or play games. Tomorrow I'm going to join them on a game of basketball.”  
“I'm so happy for you. Looks like you're somewhat going to enjoy your stay here.”  
Greg looked up at her: “If it weren't for those painful pt sessions it would actually be a lovely holiday.” He started to laugh. “Speaking of physical therapy – I think it's time to get back in. My session starts soon. You can come with me and watch if you want to.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yeah I would be very happy if you join me. Actually the therapists encourage friends and family members to be an active part during therapy.”

Together they made their way back into the building and settled in front of the therapy room waiting to be called in.  
A couple of minutes later his physiotherapist appeared. “Ah I see you brought company.”  
“Hey Dan. Yeah, this is Molly Hooper, she's...” he stopped, suddenly realizing that they never had established what kind of relationship they were having at the moment. Would it be Ok to call her his girlfriend or are they still on the dating level?  
Molly got up and shook Dan's hand. “Hi, I'm a very good friend of Greg's” she said smiling.  
“I see,” Dan said looking at both of them. “Well let's start your session then, shall we?”  
“I'm ready!” Lestrade said moving into the room. “So what are we doing today?”  
“I thought about doing some bodyweight supported treadmill training.” Dan grabbed the handles of Greg's wheelchair and moved him across the room to the treadmill.  
“Wow, it looks like these things you can buy for babies to stand in, “ Greg joked.  
“It is the same principle. We'll hook you up on this harness and then put you on the treadmill which will be running at a slow speed. Me and Sarah will then carefully move your legs.” Dan explained tilting his head towards the second physiotherapist, who was standing next to the treadmill. “First I'll but on these braces to stabilize your legs and then me and Mrs. Hooper here will help you to stand up.”  
Greg nodded. He felt slightly nervous when they lifted him out of his wheelchair and carefully positioned him on the treadmill. He could vaguely feel someone holding his legs around the knees and ankles and moving them. Over the last few weeks he had regained quite a lot of feeling in his thighs but still had nearly no feeling at all from his knees on. He grabbed the site rails and hold onto them tightly.  
Molly lay her hand over his and smiled at him encouragingly. “You're doing great.”  
“Thanks,” he breathed.  
After 30 minutes his physiotherapist decided that it was enough and slowly placed him back in his wheelchair.  
“Till Monday morning then,” Greg said upon leaving. “Enjoy your weekend.”

Molly accompanied Greg to his room. His injuries were hurting again and he thought it would be best if he could lie down.  
“You've got a really nice room”, Molly began, watching Greg transferring himself onto the bed. She was still slightly hurt that Greg hadn't referred to her as his girlfriend. She thought that what they had could be called a relationship after all they went through. On the other hand she could totally understand that during this time Greg had more important things in mind than what to call the status of their relation. “I've still got some time left until I have to get back to London what do you suggest we could do?”  
“Well, right now I'm pretty much wiped out from the last session and my chest and abdomen feel like they are on fire. So I'm afraid I won't be much fun to be around.” “But what about watching some Telly?” Greg added. “You can lie down next to me if you want to.”  
Molly smiled brightly. “Sounds good to me.”  
“Just give me a sec to make some space,” Greg said while moving himself towards the wall to give Molly sufficient space to lie down.  
“Do you know that this is actually the first time we are lying next to each other? I'm mean like actually sharing a bed.” Molly whispered.  
“I know,” Greg replied quietly. “And I really enjoy it.” He turned his head an smiled at Molly.  
Molly smiled back and together they just lay there both deeply absorbed in their thoughts about what status their relationship was in.

 

* * *

 

On the next day Greg was on the basketball court playing a game with Mark, Andrew and co. John was sitting on the site line acting as the referee. Greg wasn't really of much help for his team as he was most of the time preoccupied with moving his wheelchair to the right positions and trying not to lose the ball while dribbling instead of shooting baskets or defend. Even though it slightly frustrated him he still enjoyed being active.  
Greg had just intercepted a counter attack and was making his way towards the opposite basket when he spotted his parents standing at the site talking to John. “I'll be with you in a sec” he shouted putting the ball in his lap and looked around for someone to pass to. He found Daniel and threw the ball over to him who then quickly made his way towards the basket and scored. “ 'K guy, I've gotta leave. I'll see you later.” Greg said wheeling himself off the court.  
“Gregory! How are you? Mum and I are so happy seeing you being active,” his father greeted him.   
His mother added “and you look so much better than the last time we saw you.” She bend down giving him a careful hug.  
“And I do feel much better.” Greg replied. The last time they had seen him was while he was in hospital and still had been in a considerable amount of pain. “I see that you guys have met John already.”  
“Yes, yes. We've already introduced each other while we were watching you play. You have to work on your throwing skills, my son. That's not what I had taught you,” Greg's father laughed.  
Back when Greg's father had been younger he had been a dedicated basketball player and he and Greg had often played together on their driveway.  
“I'll try to remember your lessons next time.” Greg replied. “Shall we grab something to eat? They have some nice food in the cafeteria.”  
“Sounds like a good Idea. I'm quite hungry,” his mother agreed.  
“So how was your journey?” Greg asked while they slowly made their way towards the cafeteria. His parents lived 6 hours away from London and due to their age and health they seldom took that long journey.  
“Oh, don't get me started on the bloody public transport” Greg#s father answered annoyed. “You have to pay a lot of money and then they're either late, crowded or both.”  
Greg laughed. “Yeah it is a pain in the ass. I try to avoid it at any costs though you don't have much choice when it comes to getting around London quickly. But for any journeys outside of London I mostly try to use my Met issued car. But why did you come by train? Did the car broke down?”  
“Driving would have been so much easier but since your father thought that it would be a good idea to get into a heated argument with a police officer after being stopped for speeding and as a result got disqualified from driving we're stuck with public transport.” Greg's mother answered looking sharply at her husband.  
John laughed. Now he knew were Greg got his temper and stubbornness from.  
“Dear God, what the hell did you say to that poor bloke that made him disqualifying you from driving, Dad? “  
“Well I've might have called him some names and then I might have said that I have a son working as a DI at Scotland Yard who will kick his ass and make sure that he'll be transferred to issuing parking tickets.”  
Greg stopped his wheelchair and put his head in his hands. “Oh God, tell me you didn't.”  
“He did,” his mother confirmed. “I've tried to stop him but well you know how he is.”  
They arrived at the cafeteria and settled down around one of the vacant tables. After they all had chosen what to eat and drink Greg offered to order and get it for them from the counter.  
“Do you need any help, dear?” his mother offered.  
“Nah, all good. I have to practise doing things like this so I try to do them as often as possible.” Greg said leaving for the counter.  
“It looks like he's adapting quite well, doesn't it?” Mrs. Lestrade said quietly.  
Her husband nodded. “It does. But we have to see what the time will bring. It's only his first week here so I suspect that there will be a lot of ups and downs ahead. But I'm pretty sure that his friends will have his back.” He looked at John: “I understand that you were first on the scene after Gregory got shot?”  
John swallowed, remembering finding Greg on the floor drowning in his own blood. “Yes, I was. Me and a friend actually. We were helping Greg with a case.”  
Mr. Lestrade held out a shaky hand: “thank you very much for saving our son's live. Thank you. I don't know how to show you our deep gratitude but if it hadn't been for you Gregory wouldn't be alive today.” Tears were forming in Mr. Lestrade's eyes.  
John shook the outstretched hand and smiled. He didn't really know what to reply so he just sat there and nodded.  
“Ah I think our food is coming,” Mr. Lestrade said watching his son slowly making his way towards them, shakingly balancing a tray on his lap. He had a concentrated look on his face, tongue pressed between his lips.  
Greg's mother started to get up to aid her son but her husband stopped her. “No, he wanted to do it by himself, so let him.”  
“Situations like these are very important in Greg's rehabilitation,” John added. “He needs these senses of achievement even if they seem small and it might look to us that he's struggling. What Greg hates the most is to be dependent so letting him doing as much as possible by himself will keep his spirits up.”  
“Remember when Gregory had been laid up with a broken leg when he was younger? Good Lord had he been a pain in the arse back then.” Greg's father remembered.  
“Who had been a pain in the arse?” Greg finally had made it back to the table and put the tray on it. He couldn't hide the proud smile on his lips. Nearly no spilling, that was a new record.  
“Ah no one, Gregory. Just been telling John some old stories,” his father said reaching over to grab his plate.  
Greg eyed his father suspiciously. “Very well then,” he said biting off his sandwich.

After they finished their food John announced that it was time for him to return to London.  
“Thanks for your visit, John” Greg said. Seeing Mrs. Armand making her way towards him he added “you chose the right moment. The old bitch's coming.”  
“Language, Gregory!” his mother scolded. “ You don't call persons names like that. You're 45 years old, you should know better than that.”  
“Sorry, but she is,” Greg muttered looking over to John who nodded affirmatively. “She's incredibly rude and insists on helping me in and out of bed even though I'm perfectly able to transfer me on my own.”  
“I'm pretty sure she has her reasons,” his mother said. “And have you ever considered talking to your case worker if it's possible to get an other nurse?”  
“I did, but there is no one available at the moment.” Greg replied.  
  
Mrs. Armand had nearly reached them. “Ok guys I'm going to take flight as long as I have the chance.” John said laughing.  
“You lucky bastard.” Greg replied smirking.  
“Ah here you are, Mr. Lestrade.” Mrs. Armand said in that stern voice of her. “I've been looking for you for quite a while now.”  
“Yeah sorry. As you can see my parents are here for a visit.”  
“It's time to change your dressings. Let's get you up into your room.”  
“Can't that wait a little?” Greg asked. "And anyway isn't it normally Ella's job?"   
“Ella has her day off today. And no it can't.” Mrs. Armand answered coldly.  
Greg knew that any further discussion would be futile. He looked over to his parents “Sorry have to do this. You don't have to come with me, we can meet here afterwards.”  
“No, it's Ok. We would love to see the room you have here.” his mother smiled cheery.  
The dressings were changed quite quickly. Greg got used to see his battered chest but he could hear his mother gasp after the nurse had removed the bandages and his incisions were fully visible. “Sorry my dear,” she said embarrassed that she hadn't been able to hide her shock.  
Greg reached out and touched her arm. “It's Ok, Mum,” he said smilingly.  
Afterwards he and his parents settled on the balcony and talked till it was time for them to leave. They had found themselves a nice little hotel nearby where they could spend the night. Their train was leaving tomorrow in the afternoon so they promised to come by before they were going back home.

After his parents left Greg settled himself in his bed. Even though he hadn't admit it, the reaction of his mother had hurt him. His wounds had healed to a level were he had thought that they wouldn't be as bad looking as they did back at the hospital when Molly had shown a similar reaction.  
The thought of him never being able to sunbath topless without getting stared at hang like a dark cloud over his head.  
Knowing that he would just develop a full blown depression if he kept lying in his bed he decided that he should take a look in the files Sally had brought him on her last visit. That would keep him occupied and maybe he would finally find some clues on who had ordered the hit. And speaking of clues – he found it very odd, that it seemed that Sherlock as well had no clue on who did it. Couldn't Sherlock get his old cases easily from Mycroft? Normally this man only needed to take a quick look on his files and would know straight away who the culprit was and what he had for lunch. Slowly a suspicion crept into Greg's brain that this was all to keep him occupied. He made a mental note to talk to John about that matter the next time he comes by. But for now he was just happy to have something to do and that it was something that felt like his old life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone giving Kudos. I'm always happy about comments so fire away :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you for sticking with me. The next chapter is finally up and I hope you enjoy reading it. And as always - fire away in the comments I'm looking forward to your feedback :)

Francis McNish..this name surely rang a bell, Greg thought while he was studying the file. He had nicked him on suspicion of murder multiple times but always had to let him go due to the lack of evidence. Three young women had been killed by what looked like the same person and all traces had let to McNish. Something had felt odd during this case but Greg hadn't been able to pinpoint what it was. It had been one of his first cases as a DI at the Homicide and Serious Crime Unit an in hindsight he wished he had known Sherlock back then. After they had to let him go the third time the whole case kind of went a bit downhill for everyone involved.  
Greg remembered that McNish had also been investigated by the Trafficking and Prostitution Unit of New Scotland Yard and that the three dead women where all involved in the sex trade. He was eager to make an arrest. The press was on his back and his picture had been in the papers with lines like “ Is the new Detective Inspector fit for the job?” and “ Detective Inspector Lestrade incapable of catching the new Ripper” And that had been the nicer ones. So after a fourth body, who as well as the other three had been in the trade, had been found they teamed up and got a search warrant for McNish's business as well as private premisses.  
The team from the other unit opted for searching the brothels so Greg's team did the search in McNish's home. It didn't went down easy and McNish got violent attacking Greg and his team. Greg had suffered a sprained wrist, thank you very much and McNish could only be stopped by the Armed Response Team which luckily was on stand by outside the house.

But McNish was dead. He had died in his own living room, hit by bullets fired by the ART. And it was over 10 years ago. So why would anyone of McNish's Gang have any interest to get him killed? Why now? No there must be someone else Greg thought closing the file and he was about to put it on the “nope” pile when he suddenly remembered that McNish had a son. He had witnessed the whole disaster and Greg now vividly remembered that, while he sat in the living room leaned against a wall cradling his hurting wrist and waiting for a medic to see him, the boy stood in the door frame staring at him with such a hate Greg never had seen before in the eyes of an 11 year old.

Greg involuntarily shuddered. When the medics had called out McNish's death the boy went straight to Greg leant over him and whispered “You killed my father, you bastard. You're a dead man!” Back then Greg had shrugged it off. The boy had been taken into the care of social workers and Greg hadn't heard from him for quite some time.

Greg rolled back and grabbed his mobile from the bed-site table. “Donovan? Lestrade here. I need every file we've got on Brandon McNish”  
“Um I don't think I can do that Boss. You're on sick leave. You're really not supposed to look through files.”  
“Ah come on Donovan. This last one.”  
“No I can't. The Chief Superintendent had already found out about the last files I brought you and I had some serious explaining to do. Sorry.”  
“Ok, if you can't get the file to me then I've gotta come to the file” Lestrade said annoyed.  
“Boss you are not coming in just to look at a bloody file!” Donovan sighted, “look we want to find the bastard who did that to you as much as you do. It's our top priority right now, believe me. If you think there is something we should investigate concerning this...what was his name?  
“Brandon McNish”  
“McNish, right. If there is something you think is important tell me and I will look into it,Ok?” She could hear Greg moving around.  
It took a couple of seconds until he answered. “I think he might be our guy.” He told her everything he remembered about that day and that he knew that Brandon had took over his Dad's businesses as soon as he was old enough.  
“I will look into it,” Donovan promised. “And you just concentrate on getting back on your feet. Everyone around here misses you. Dimmock...well he tries but he'll never be as good as you are, Boss.”  
A small smile formed on Greg's lips. “Thanks. I'll try my best.” He ended the call and put his arms behind his head. Sally was on it but non the less he intended to inform Sherlock as well. He sent a quick text and then settled down on his balcony. A couple of minutes later he got a reply. “Good choice Detective Inspector. SH” it read.  
Greg groaned. “Could this man for ones try not to speak in riddles. Good choice? What the hell does he mean with that?” he thought. He knew that it was pointless to ask Sherlock to be more clear so he just had to wait. That made Greg chuckle a little bit. Since the day he got shot his whole life kind of consisted of waiting. Waiting to get out of hospital, waiting to get the feeling back, waiting to be able to walk. In two of these he had succeeded. Well at least partly. More and more feeling started to return in his legs and his therapists were quite pleased with the progress he made. He had been in Rehab for 2 weeks now and had nearly daily pre-gait training to prepare him to move from weight assisted gait training to the regular one.

A couple of days later he got a phone call from Sally that there seemed to be a connection between a case Greg had worked on and Brandon McNish. Unfortunately McNish was nowhere to be found but Sally assured him that his team was working hard to find out his current whereabouts and drag him in for questioning.A suspicion aroused in Greg. He couldn't pinpoint what but something felt utterly wrong.

 

* * *

 

It was his birthday and his fifth week in Rehabilitation. He still hadn't heard any word from Sally if they had got any closer in finding McNish.  
Greg hadn't expected much for his birthday. He got a couple of calls from colleagues in the morning and Molly promised that she'll pop by later.  
What Greg didn't know was that they had a huge surprise planed for him so when Molly had arrived and conspiratorially asked him to change into something more representable he was what could have been called slightly confused but complied. “So what's this all about?” Greg asked while he peeled himself out of his sweatpants. “I don't really need to dress up for the cafeteria, do I?”  
“No, not for the cafeteria.” Molly looked him straight into the eyes. “Hurry up, the car is parked in the short term parking lot.”  
“Car?” Greg raised his right eyebrow. “What do we need a car for?”  
“You'll see.”  
“We're going into town, right?” Greg had been in the town a couple of times within his wheelchair mobility training group. There they had learned things like how to manoeuvre curbs and public transport. It had felt strange at first being out in the real world and he felt like everyone was staring at them but with the time he had grown more confident.  
“Well...kind of into town. But maybe not the town you have in mind right now. Oh and you better pack something for overnight.” A mischievous smile broke out on Molly's face.  
Now Greg was completely confused. He had no idea what Molly had planed and decided that it would probably be best to wait and see.  
  
Molly helped him into the car and stowed the wheelchair away in the boot. After they had left the city limits of Stanmore behind Greg looked over to Molly. “Ok, where the hell are you taking me? You do know it is highly illegal to kidnap a police officer especially if he's on sick leave?” he laughed.  
“Yeah I do know that and believe me it's all arranged with the Rehab Facility and even with the Yard.” The mischievous smile from earlier had returned.  
“I'm not quite sure if that's supposed to reassure me or if you just want to confuse me even more.”  
“Well maybe a bit of both” Molly said patting Greg's right knee.  
  
“That's...we are...this is where I live. We're in Rotherhithe,” Greg said dumbfounded after he spotted the first familiar buildings of his borough.  
“It is.” Molly smiled at him. “We're a little bit early so we have to make a small stopover,” she said turning into Elephant Lane where Greg's flat was located. She stopped in front of the building and helped him out of the car and through the front door.  
While they were waiting for the lift Greg looked around. It felt strange being here after all these months. He wondered what his apartment would look like. He couldn't remembered how he had left it behind and wondered if John or Molly had done some cleaning. God he hoped not.  
During the lift ride he noticed Molly typing a quick text holding the display out of his sight. He frowned. What the hell was going on?  
The lift doors opened and they exited to his floor. His apartment was located at the end of the corridor and upon arrival Molly handed him his key. “After you,” she said now spotting a wide smile, barely able to contain her excitement.  
Greg looked up at her still not quite sure what to make out of all of this. He opened the door and wheeled himself into the hallway of his apartment.  
Greg had moved here after his divorce. He had chosen this 2 bedroom flat as it was not that far away from the house he had with his ex-wife so that his boys could stay over night during the week and wouldn't have to travel far to school. He had gotten really angry when he had learned that his ex-wife was moving with this PE teacher up to Scotland, taking James and Oliver with her meaning that he could see his sons only on some weekends.  
“Do you want anything to drink?” Greg asked turning in his wheelchair. “I think I have some tea somewhere in the kitchen.”  
“Thanks, maybe later.”  
“All-right.” Greg opened the door to his living room and nearly got a heart attack when a sudden “Happy Birthday” rang out.

Greg started to laugh. “Dear God. You just can't scare an old man like that. I nearly jumped out of my chair.” He wheeled himself towards his sons who bent down to give their father a big hug.  
“Happy Birthday, Dad.”  
“Yeah, Happy Birthday.”  
“Thank you. Wow that really is a surprise. I haven't seen you two in ages. When was the last time? Back in hospital, wasn't it?”  
Oliver nodded. “Yeah. How are you doing, Dad? It's cool to see you mobile.”  
“I'm..I'm good. The physical therapy sessions are starting to show successes and I'm getting really good at basketball. I think I can even beat you two guys now,” Greg laughed.  
“Pfff.” The disapproving sound came from his youngest son, James. “As if..you couldn't even beat us bef...” James quickly corrected himself: “the last times we played you lost quite badly, remember?”  
“Maybe, but now I really had time to train and I have some new tricks up my sleeve.”  
“You're up for a game to prove that?” Oliver asked. He looked over to Molly and added: “ I think we still have a couple of hours, don't we?”  
“A couple of hours until what?” Greg looked between his sons and Molly.  
“You'll see, Dad.” Now both of his sons were spotting the same smile Molly had before.  
“It better is something nice. You know it's rude to keep an old injured man in suspense,” Greg said mockingly.  
“It is nice. You'll love it, believe me,” Molly said. “I'm going to leave now anyway to let you guys have some time for yourself. I'll be back in around 2-3 hours.”

“Ok then,” Greg said turning his wheelchair, “let's see if I can find a basketball somewhere around here. I think I saw one in your room.” He rolled towards the boys room and opened the door. James and Oliver followed him in some distance. “Ah, yes. I knew it. There is one up on the shelf. Would one of you be so nice and get that ball down. I can't reach it.”  
“Sure.” Oliver made his way past James, who was looking at the floor, and his dad and got the basketball from the shelf.  
“Thank you. I'm going to change into something more comfortable for the game and then I'm ready to go.”

Greg wheeled himself into his bedroom and frowned at the wardrobe. His sport shirts where all unreachable from his wheelchair and he didn't want to ask his sons for help again. So he settled for a plain white shirt he normally wore under his button-down shirt and black sweatpants which he found lying on the floor. He had no clue what would happen later but he didn't want to be sitting there with a sweaty shirt and pants. It took him quite a while, getting in and out of pants was still a hassle, and when he finally exited his bedroom his sons were eagerly waiting in the hallway.   
“I hope that the court is vacant otherwise we have to play an other time. “  
“Are you getting cold feet, Dad?” James said picking up the ball.  
“No not at all. I was just thinking that the basketball court is quite often occupied.”  
“It's early afternoon on a weekday. There'll most likely be nobody or we wait until they are finished.“  
“Speaking of weekdays,” Greg said looking up at his sons. “Shouldn't you two be at school normally? Maybe the blows to my head knocked something loose put I'm pretty sure that there are no school holidays at the moment, not even in Scotland.”  
“Gosh Dad, some things are more important than school. No, there are no holidays at the moment but Mum allowed us to take a couple of days off to come to London for your birthday. And before you ask – yes we will of course work off everything we missed.“  
Greg smiled, “your right. Some things actually are more important than school. Having you two here is the best birthday present I've ever got. Now shall we?” He gestured towards the front door.

They made their way to Southwark Park which was a short walk away. Greg had never noticed how many curbs he had to go up and down on that route. When he had been able to walk he had never wasted a thought on them but now that he was sitting in a wheelchair they could become quite a problem. The small ones were easy. He had learned how to pop a wheelie, as his trainer had called it, and was able to get up and down small curbs pretty easy now. But he still was slightly afraid of the bigger ones. During training he had nearly fell over a couple of times because he had leaned back too much or didn't have enough momentum. Luckily his trainer had been able to catch him every time.

Noticing the insecurity of his sons when he more or less clumsily managed the first curbs Greg decided that a talk was urgently needed. He could sense that they were not sure if they should help him and if it would be Ok to ask him if he needs some help.  
Greg knew why his sons had been so eager to have a game of basketball. It was something they had always done together. Either right after they had arrived when they came to visit or back in the days when he still had been living with his wife and had the weekend or a day off. It was a piece of normality for them in this difficult time.  
During one of his psychological therapy session Greg had been made aware of the fact that this whole situation was not only life changing and difficult for him but also for the people around him, especially his sons who had seen him at his worse in the ICU and now also have to deal with the possibility that their father might never be able to walk again. He decided to have the talk after the game as he didn't want to destroy the tradition they had since he had moved out. First play a round of basketball and then have any serious conversations which sometimes had been due. But what he had to do now was to address the curb-problem.  
Normally he hated it to be asked if he needs some help as he wanted to be as independent as possible but he had the feeling that he had to make an exception for his sons. He stopped his wheelchair and turned it around so that he was now facing James and Oliver.   
“You know it's always Ok to ask if you want to help me with something,” Greg said with an encouraging smile. “Like with this curbs here. The smaller ones are Ok, I can manage them well.” Seeing the doubtful faces of his sons and that they were dying to give a stupid remark he smilingly added, “don't you dare!”  
Both boys raised their hands in defeat and laughingly assured that they never had intended to do say anything.  
“Very well then, I'm going to believe you for now, “ he laughed. “But back to topic - I still have problems with the bigger ones as you may have noticed and would be more than happy if either of you could help me in situations like this. I know it's strange. It is for all of us but it is something we have to deal with for now and I was thinking that after the game we pop in our usual pub on the way back, talk about all of this,” Greg gestured over his body, “and I'll try to answer every question you two have. You're Ok with that?”  
They both nodded and for the rest of the way they were fighting over whose turn it is to get their father up or down a curb as they were now both very eager to help.  
  
Greg could feel the unease of his boys returning when they arrived at the basketball court and saw a couple of teenagers hanging around. They were smoking something that suspiciously didn't smell like a cigarette and they looked like they most likely lived somewhere around Rotherhithe New Road. It wasn't the first time these guys were occupying the court when Greg wanted to have a game with his sons but on the times before he had been able to walk up to them and ask them to leave and on the times they hadn't complied he had put on his professional face and, much to the embarrassment of James and Oliver, had pulled his warrant card and told them that it might be better for their future if they smoke their herbs somewhere else. There had been the usual insults but they had complied every time.

“Oi, look who we've got here!” One of the teenagers said nudging his friend and pointed at Greg. He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. The other four looked in Lestrade's direction.  
“It's the bloody copper.”  
“You're coming to chase us away again? Sorry not working. Find somewhere else to play.”  
“Bet your not even a copper anymore,” another one added eyeing Greg's wheelchair.  
Greg started to wheel himself towards the group which was sitting in the middle of the court when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
“Let's just go somewhere else and wait until they leave,” James his youngest said quietly.  
Greg shook his head. Just because he was sitting in a wheelchair didn't mean that he would withdraw from this conflict. The teenagers where now all standing showing a quite aggressive body language. “I don't want to cause any trouble, “ he said directed to the teenagers, “We just want to have a quick game of basketball. You can have your court back in 30 minutes or so.”  
“Can he even play basketball?” One of the youth said to his friend nodding towards Greg. They all broke out in laughter.  
“Yeah man, why are you a cripple now? Fell over a box of doughnuts?” Their laughter grew louder.  
“We're not going to leave because a fucking gimp says so,” the first one said, demonstratively blowing smoke in Greg's face before sitting down again.

Even though he was used getting insulted, it was something that comes with the job, these remarks really did hurt. But Greg didn't allowed himself to show it. He just was going to defuse the situation when he suddenly felt someone walk vigorously past him.  
“What did you say?” Oliver asked angrily, “what the fuck did you call my father?”  
“Gimp,” the guy from before repeated provocatively. “Got any problem with that, asshole?”  
“Fuck you,” Oliver retorted. “Say it one more time and I swear I'm going to smash your fucking face.”  
Greg reached up and grabbed Oliver’s arm. “Calm down, we just walk away and wait till they leave,” he said quietly and then loud enough for every one to hear he added: “ this guy is not worth to fight, Oliver. Tried to buy some faked Viagra ones because he was too embarrassed to ask his doctor about his erectional dysfunction. Read it in his files. Let me tell you about the others.” With a victorious smile Greg turned his wheelchair around and made his way off the field, followed by his sons.

As predicted by Greg the boys had cleared the court when they returned.

They had played for 20 minutes when Greg decided that it was enough. Not only was he out of breath, he was still far away from his old lunge capacity, the pain in his chest and abdomen had also returned.  
But the main reason why he wanted to end this game was that he was loosing quite badly. He had regretted it pretty soon that he had told his sons to not go easy on him and play as usual.  
“I think..I am...I'm done,” Greg panted. After he had caught his breath he added “you guys beat me again.”  
“Shame, Granddad said that you were quite good at basketball when you were younger. I can't really believe it,” Oliver joked.  
Greg pretended to smack him over the head, “Oi! Bit more respect for your old injured father.  
When you guys visit me at rehab I'm getting you two wheelchairs and then we'll have a rematch,” he laughed.  
“Looking forward to it. Bet we're going to beat you there as well.” Oliver retorted  
“And besides, as you should know, I'm more the football type but playing that is out of question. You would beat me there as well now I'm afraid,” he slightly hit his legs. “But you know where you will never be able to beat me?”  
Both of his sons shook their heads.  
Greg let out a hearty laugh: “musical chairs!”  
James and Oliver couldn't really laugh about that joke. They looked hat their father uncomfortably  
“Too soon?” Greg asked carefully.  
“Too soon.” Oliver confirmed.  
Greg sighed. Joking about it was his way of dealing with this whole situation but he had to understand that it was something not everybody was comfortable with.   
“Ok I'll try to keep these jokes at bay when I'm with you guys. But just so you know this doesn't save you from all the other great jokes I normally make. I know how you love my awesome puns.”  
Now it was James' and Oliver's turn to sigh and groan.

Upon arrival at the pub Oliver offered that he would get the drinks while Greg and James should look for a nice table outside. Greg handed him his wallet and ordered a coke. He was dying for a beer but his scheduled dose of painkillers was due and he didn't want to take his pills with alcohol. Oliver put the ball in his father's lap and quickly made his way inside. Greg watched him and saw that Oliver didn't head straight to the bar but was making a slight detour to a young lady who was about to leave. He could see Oliver greeting her with a kiss and while talking to her he was pointing in Greg's direction. Greg noticed the slightly embarrassed look on his face. He tried to convince himself that it was not because of his wheelchair but because parents are always embarrassing when you are a teenager. When she turned around and looked at him Greg first wanted to wave but remembering the dressing-down he had gotten from Oliver on how embarrassing he had looked the last time he settled for a smile and a nod. She returned the nod and Greg could see the pity in her eyes. He looked at James, “he's still going out with Vanessa?”  
“Apparently so,” James was not really interested in discussing the relationship matters of his older brother with his father. “Let's find a table.”  
They settled on a partly secluded table and waited for Oliver to return.  
“So what's the news? Did you find yourself a nice Scottish lady yet? Back when I was you age I always... ”  
“Daaaad!”  
Greg laughed.

A couple of minutes later Oliver arrived. He placed the coke in front of Greg and gave him back his wallet. For him and his brother he had gotten some lemonade which was popular with the young and trendy and was most likely highly overpriced Greg thought. He raised his glass: “Cheers! To us. It's great to see you.”“To you, Dad. Happy Birthday again.”  
Greg took a sip and put the glass down. He pulled out his pillbox and quickly swallowed the necessary pills. Greg sighed with relieve when the pain which had been bothering him for a while now slowly became subdued. “Ok, I think it is time to talk. I don't know how much your mother or the doctors back in hospital have told you so I don't know...you have any questions about my other injuries?”  
“No, Mum and the doctors had explained everything to us when we first came to visit you.”  
“Ah Ok, good. Well...uhm..I heard that you saw me in the ICU. I don't remember much about my stay there, I'm afraid. But if there's anything you want to know or talk to me about just fire away. Same goes for everything else you want to know. Just ask. There are no stupid or embarrassing questions. Most of them I most likely have asked my doctors and therapists as well.” Greg leaned back and sent an encouraging smile towards his sons.  
  
Oliver broke the silence. “When we learned that you had been shot and that they didn't know if you would survive it was the pure horror. We were in Cambodia and had no possibility to get a plane to London. Mum did her best to keep us calm and was in constant contact with your doctors. But I just thought what if he dies? What if your dad dies alone in a hospital because some asshole shot him and you are sitting here on the other side of the world and can't do nothing. Later that night Mum told us that a friend and Molly were allowed to see you and that this friend stayed with you after you were brought out of surgery. So I knew you would be Ok. Then we finally were able to visit you in Intensive Care. You looked really horrible, white as a sheet, a lot of tubes and things coming out of and going in to your body. If it weren't for the monitors showing your heartbeat and that machine breathing for you I would have thought that you were dead. I don't know what I had expected and I just don't know why I though that but I somehow imagined that you would be yourself and that our visit would make you happy and calm but you acted really strange. You didn't really seemed to recognize us and were panicking, trying to remove your breathing thing. We've later been told that it had been the medication you had been given that made you act the way you did but it was really frightening for us. We visited like a week or so later and there you had been way more calmer. It still wasn't easy for us because even though you seemed to recognize us it still seemed that you weren't fully aware on what was going on and that sometimes you wanted to communicate but just couldn't. Sorry for spilling my heart out on this matter but I would really want to know if you can remember us visiting you?”  
Greg took a deep breath before answering. He felt sad for his sons that they had to go through all of this. “I'm so sorry that you had to see me in that state. I really am. I can totally understand that you were afraid. I was afraid too. As I said before I can't remember much but what I can remember is lying there, too weak to do anything and having no clue what was going on. People coming and going, talking to me. Asking me to do stuff that I couldn't. Touching and moving me. When they talked to me their words didn't made any sense. And I remember seeing you two, crying. Don't ask me why but I thought we were in danger because you were crying and I couldn't move. After I finally got more and more lucid and aware of my surroundings I understood that I'm in a hospital and that I got injured.”  
“How did you feel learning about..you know?” James asked.  
“Honestly? I cried. I can still see it in front of me. The doctor came into my room and talked to me about the injuries I had sustained. When it came to the bullet to my abdomen he said, and I will never forget that, -Mr. Lestrade,- he said - unfortunately the bullet did injure your spine. Therefore you are paralysed from the waist down.- He then also told me that it seems to be something what is called an incomplete injury and therefore there is the change to walk again but all I could think about at that moment was paralysed. So after he left I cried for hours I think. I just couldn't stop. I was really depressed for quite a time but Molly and my friends helped me to keep my head up and to think positive. And now at rehab I have a really good therapist to talk to and a lot of great people in the same situation who help me deal with all of it.”  
“What is it like in rehab? What are you learning there?”  
“Rehab is really hard work but also kinda fun. I learn basic skills like moving around in a wheelchair and transfer myself from the chair to a bed and other stuff. And..”  
“Is it hard to manoeuvre a wheelchair?” James interrupted him.  
“Surprisingly yes. You can try it out back in my flat if you want to. You've gotta learn how to open and close doors without hitting yourself, managing curbs and slopes and stuff like that. And you know how clumsy I am. It took me ages to learn. We learned how to manoeuvre our chairs around the real world as we call it, like public transport and stuff like that. I'm really not looking forward to using the tube the first time, “ Greg said laughing. “How to quickly turn around and god knows what else will come up. My planed stay is for at least 4 month, I hope I don't need mobility training during all of them. “  
“Do you already work on your walking? How much feeling do you have in your legs?”  
“I do and there is more and more feeling returning but that doesn't mean that I can move them. That still doesn't work. It kinda feels like my body below my belly button either fell asleep or doesn't exist at all depending on how much feeling returned. I'm doing a lot of physical therapy to get me back on my feet but first of all we've got to try to teach my muscles how to work again before I can try to make my first steps and see if my spinal cord sends the signals from my brain to my legs. But that's still very far away.”

They talked for quite a while about Greg's life at rehab and about how it is to be in a wheelchair. Greg had told them that he actually couldn't say much about it as it only was his fifth week but that he was more than happy to keep them up to date. “You get a different perspective of the world. You always have to look up while all the other people have to look down to you. And they look different at you. Some stare, some try to not look at you and more than enough you can see pity shining through their eyes. And nearly everybody treats you different, like you are not the person you have been before.“

After a while Lestrade could see James and Oliver exchanging looks, nudging each other. It seemed that there was something more they wanted to know but neither of them had the courage to ask.  
Greg looked at them expectantly. He had a feeling what it could be but didn't want to push that topic as it was something he preferred to keep to himself whenever possible.  
Then James took heart and asked: “you said that it starts below your belly button. Do you...I mean can you...? Because we once saw a documentation about paralysed people and there they said that there are often problems with...well..you know down there.”  
“Not at the moment, no. There is still no feeling down there and I have to wear a catheter like I did in hospital. It is annoying but I somehow got used to it. And my therapists says that there is a good chance that I can get rid of it in the near future.”  
Greg finished his drink. “Anything else you guys want to know right now?”  
“Do you...do you remember how it happened?” James asked quietly just at the moment when they were starting to leave. Greg rolled back at the table.  
“I wanted to interview this guy. He had showed me towards his living room when I suddenly felt something hard hitting my head. Next thing I remember is that I somehow was talking to Sally on the phone and then there is only pain. I remember John and Sherlock talking to me and that I couldn't breath. So yeah, thanks to that idiot who thought it would be a great idea to gun down an unarmed Detective Inspector I'm now disabled,” a bitter smile crossed his face. It still wasn't easy talking about the attack and he remembered more than he wanted his sons to know, sparing them the bloody details.  
“Dad, please. Don't call yourself disabled,” James said, “it just sounds so harsh, so definite. Like you actually are one of them.”  
“I am one of them now!” Greg replied sharply.  
“No your not! You're different. Your my Dad. You just have to get up and walk.”  
“I can't James, I wish I could but it's not possible for me right now. I work hard on it, trust me. There is nothing more I want to do right now than to walk but I can't. I just can't. And I don't know if I ever will. I have to accept that and I'm asking you to do the same. Please. Don't make this whole situation any harder for both of us.”  
James looked down. His shoulders began to shake and Greg could see the tears falling. “It's just...I don't know...I didn't meant to hurt you. God I'm so sorry, Dad. But..I don't know...I think I'm just afraid 'cause everything around me changes. It's just all so fucked up at the moment. First you and Mum divorce, then she drags us up to Scotland to live with that idiot and now this. I'm afraid that we can't do the things together any more I have always loved to do with you.”  
Greg rolled away from the table and wheeled himself towards his son. He laid his arm around his shoulder and gently pulled him towards his chest. James began to cry even harder. “I'm so sorry Dad, I'm a horrible son saying things like these.”  
“Shhh, it's all good,” Greg stroke the back of his youngest. “Don't beat yourself up about it. It's hard for all of us and we all have to get used to it. But things won't be much different when you come to visit me here in London. We can still do the same things we've done before,” he slowly moved James head up, wiping away his tears and smiled at him. “or have you forgotten that we played our usual match of basketball only an hour ago and I was as bad as ever?”  
James chuckled.  
“See, some things will never change.” Oliver said patting his younger brother on the shoulder.  
“Guess your right.” James snuffled and peeled himself out of the hug his father was still holding him in.  
“You know what we could do to help you guys get more accustomed to this situation and let you see how it is for me? I'm going to talk to your mother and my rehab team to see if it is possible to have you two stay a couple of days at the rehabilitation facility I'm at. Either you two together at the same time or after each other depending on how you like and the facility allows it. How does that sound?”  
“That sounds great. We would really love to do that, wouldn't we Oliver?”  
Oliver nodded: “Yeah, that sounds pretty awesome.”  
“Great! Now I think it's time to go. I still have no clue what'll happen later but I'm quite sure that Molly will get angry if we're not ready on time,” Greg sniffed his armpits, “and I'm afraid I have to shower which nowadays takes a while.”  
“Yeah about Molly,” Oliver started while they made their way back to the street, looking over to his brother who spotted the same cheeky smile.  
Knowing what would come Greg prepared himself for it. He put on an innocent face and looked up to his sons: “Yes, what should there be about Molly?”  
“Well, when we first met her visiting you in hospital, she said that she was working with you and you two were good friends but..uhm...we don't really buy that story. We're no kids any more, we noticed the looks the two of you exchanged. Is she your new...I mean are you two together?”  
Greg couldn't hide a smile. “Yes, we're dating. It started quite badly as we had planned our first date to be on the day I got shot but I know Molly for years now. She works as a forensic pathologist so we meet regularly during cases and on some private occasions of shared friends so we knew each other quite well. And yeah over the last months we grew even closer and are now having something what you actually could call some kind of relationship.”  
“That's so cool, Dad!” James exclaimed happily. “She's awesome and we really like her.”  
“And you know what the best thing about this is?” Oliver asked.  
Greg shook his head. “Except the fact that your old father somehow managed to find a new girlfriend?”  
Oliver and James laughed. “Even better – Mum hates her. We think she's somehow jealous. And that makes us like her even more.”  
“Really? Well then I can't wait for the next family celebration,” he smiled.  
  
They returned home and after he had washed Greg moved himself from the wheelchair to the couch so that his sons could have a go in it. He positioned his legs on the sofa and leaned back. “Ok, if you want to you can try and have a little insight on how it is to be in a wheelchair. Who wants to go first?”  
“I do!” James exclaimed before Oliver even had the chance to say anything.  
“All-right, have a seat then. Let's try something everyone has to do on a daily basis. Oliver close the door to the hallway. I want to see if James is able to open it. You can try afterwards, Oliver,” Greg said smirking.  
“Wow, that's really hard!” James struggled to open the door and manoeuvre the wheelchair at the same time. “Is there any trick?”  
“Let me try!” Oliver said shooing his younger brother out of the chair.  
“Daaad, I wasn't finished.” James complained walking towards Greg.  
“Sit down next to me and watch your older brother fail, “ Greg said padding the place next to him. James did as he was told and together they watched Oliver struggle to open the door. “See not as easy as you think it is, isn't it? And now imagine clumsy me trying this over and over again. “ He laughed. “And this is one of the easier exercises, believe me.”  
“Dad? Can I have another go?”  
“Oliver, let your younger brother try again.” His eldest murmured something disapproving but complied.  
“I'm going to relax a bit anyway here on the couch so you two can try out my chair for that time. But I don't want to hear any fighting and you've got to promise me to bring it back as soon as you are finished or when I need it. Because otherwise I'm completely helpless.”  
“Will do Dad.”  
Lestrade repositioned himself and watched his sons trying out different stuff with his wheelchair.

He had been dozing for a while when he heard the doorbell. “Guys, I need my chair!”  
Since he was still a little bit tired and the couch was quite soft the transfer wasn't as smooth as it was supposed to be but he hoped that nobody noticed. He wheeled to the door and let Molly in.  
“Hey, how was the game?” She asked bending down to give Greg a kiss. She stopped when she saw James and Oliver standing in the hallway looking at her.  
“You can kiss me,” Greg whispered. “They know about us.”  
“Oh!” Molly looked up and smiled shyly.  
“Yeah, we're totally cool with it.” James confirmed, nodding vigorously .  
Molly gave Greg a quick kiss on the forehead and made her way towards the living room. Greg turned his chair around and followed, telling her how shamelessly his on blood and flesh took advantage and didn't left him any chance to win.  
“You said we should”  
“Yeah, right. I did.”  
“And next time you'll have the advantage, Dad.”  
“But I think he'll still lose. He's hopeless at throwing,” Oliver added nudging his dad's shoulder.  
“Stop teasing your old father. Or I have to join the next game and believe me I'll kick all of your asses,” Molly joked.  
Nearly simultaneously both Greg and his sons protested. James and Oliver exclaimed that they would never lose against a women while Greg denied that he was old.  
“You are, Dad. you've got grey hair. That means that you are old. You wanna know what your hair colour is called? Graveyard-blond!” Both of his sons were shaking with laughter.  
Greg faked a hurt face. “See what I have to deal with. No respect for their ol...I mean young father,” he joked.  
Molly looked at her watch. “I hate to interrupt this lovely bantering but think it's time to go. Are you guys ready?"  
“If I knew what you are planing I would be able to tell you if I'm ready or not,” Greg muttered. “Could you at least give me a hint?”  
“Hmm...I think I have to ask the boys if it is Ok. Most of it was their idea,” Molly said ushering James and Oliver towards the kitchen.   
They bent their heads together and whispered . Sometimes one of them looked up towards Greg who was craning his neck to make out some words. Carefully he tried to slowly wheel towards them to get within hearing but he got busted right away.  
“Oi! Stay put!”  
Greg apologized and rolled back.   
  
A short time later the three returned and told them that they decided that he should know where they were going.  
“Since Mr. Grumpy here keeps on complaining about missing to enjoy a nice Steak and a good pint since he woke up in hospital we thought it would be a great idea to go to The Old Salt Quay. James and Oliver told me that this is your favourite pub when it comes to food.”  
A huge smile crossed Greg's face. “It is. The food there is delicious. I'm ready, let's go!”  
The Old Salt Quay was an old warehouse right down at the River Thames. It had a nice outside area where one could sit and enjoy the view over the skyline of London. Greg often met here with friends for dinner.  
Molly opened the door for Greg so that he could easily wheel through. He entered the pub and started to make his way towards the bar when he suddenly heard a well known voice.  
“Why do I have to be here?”  
“Because it is Lestrade's birthday.”  
“We've could have send him a birthday card.”  
“Sherlock! John! Great to see you!” Greg exclaimed. He rounded the corner and noticed that it was not only John and Sherlock who came to celebrate his birthday. His closest friends were there as well as Sally and some other colleagues he sometimes met privately. A few had visited him in rehab but most of them he had seen the last time back when he was in hospital. Greg was dumbfounded.   
“Wow, that really is a surprise!” He didn't know what else to say so he started to make his way around to greet everyone.   
A lot of hugs, happy-birthdays and you-look-really-goods later Greg finally settled at a table. He looked around. “Thank you all for coming. Had no clue. I don't know about you guys but I'm quite hungry and I'm dying for a Pint. Hadn't had alcohol for month.” Greg grabbed the menu to see what he would order from the bar.  
“Wrong,” Sherlock corrected him. “It is quite obvious that you drank alcohol with your friends at rehab, Detective Inspector.”  
Greg starred at Sherlock. “How did you...ah never mind.” He had no clue how the hell he could've known that and if he was honest he wasn't interested. He was here to have a good time with his friends and not getting insulted by Sherlock. He rolled his eyes and concentrated on the menu again.

Greg had settled for a nice rib eye steak which he just finished. Happy he leaned back in his chair. He watched Sherlock annoying his friends as he was deducing things they preferred to stay private. His latest victim was Thomas who looked pleadingly around for someone to help him. Greg had mercy and wheeled himself over to where Sherlock and Thomas were standing.  
“Hey Thomas, how's your wife and kids doing?” Greg started, patting his friend on the back. “And no, I don't want to hear it from you, Sherlock,” he added seeing Sherlock starting to say something.   
Muttering something obscure Sherlock turned around and walked towards Sally who was sitting at a table with some of his colleagues. Greg frowned, Sherlock would never talk to Sally if he didn't have to.  
“Pain in the ass, as always.” Thomas laughed. “You know how it is.”  
“I do...I do. Never felt so good than after my divorce.” Greg said smiling.  
“I can imagine. How are you doing? You look way more better than the last time I saw you in hospital. And much stronger, I guess.”  
Greg hated that statement. Of course he looked better than in hospital. And of course he was much stronger. That was the whole purpose of being in a hospital and then be send to rehab. To not look like you just had been injured. But it was something he heard nearly every time from people who hadn't seen him for quite a while and he somehow understood that they say things like these. He would probably too if he'd been on the other side. But still it annoyed him and he had to bite back a groan.   
“Thanks. Yeah, I'm feeling good. Rehabilitation is really helping me.” It felt like he had said the exact same sentences over and over again since being out of hospital.  
They talked for quite a while about their kids and the same old stories they always talked about. They worked together back in the days when Greg was fresh on the beat and and remained friends ever since. He was one of the few friends with whom Greg could talk about nearly everything and Thomas had been a great support during his messy divorce.  
“It had been great seeing you, Greg. But unfortunately I've gotta go. Gotta work tomorrow. You know how it is.” Thomas excused himself.  
Greg nodded and laughing said “Yeah. Luckily I've got quiet some time off now,” beating against his wheelchair.  
“See, there is always a positive side to everything,” Thomas replied winking. “I'll come to visit you in Rehab, when does it fit you the best?”  
“Well I'm always there so come whenever you like. Weekends are probably the best as I don't have much therapy sessions then."  
"God it just came to me that it just sounds like you have an alcohol problem which of course is totally absurd.” Both of them started to laugh uncontrollably. Thomas bend down and gave Greg a hug. “Keep your pecker up, old bastard. I'll try to come around next weekend or so.”  
“Will do! And speaking of alcohol problem – I think it's time to get me another beer.”  
  
Together they made their way towards the bar. When they came past Sally and Sherlock Greg tried to eavesdrop on what they where talking about. They were definitely not arguing, which was odd enough but when Greg wheeled past them Sally nudged Sherlock at the shoulder and they both stopped talking. Now he was completely confused. What the hell was going on between the two?  
“You Ok, or do you need any help getting that pint back to the table?”  
“Nah I'm fine but thanks for asking.” They parted and Greg put the glass between his legs made his way back to his friends.

Sherlock was now talking to his sons, most likely teaching them new ways to annoy their father. “Well at least that hadn't changed,” Greg thought and chuckled. He sipped at his pint and watched his friends and colleagues talk to each other. On one hand Greg enjoyed not being the centre of attention for once but on the other hand he, somewhere deep inside his brain, heard a little voice telling him that he just wasn't the centre of attention because his friends didn't know what to talk to him about. That they also treated him differently and that nothing had changed since his time in hospital. That there was still the same sorrow and pity in their looks. Always the same questions on how he was doing. Always lying and telling them that he was doing fine. He wasn't. He was scared like hell. Suddenly a huge wave of sadness overwhelmed him and he could feel the tears rising up. He had to get out of here quickly. He placed the pint on the nearest table and excused himself for a moment. He rolled outside and took a deep breath. The tears where now streaming down his face. It did not take long until he was brought out if his thoughts.  
“What are you sitting here all by yourself, Gregy-boy.” Peter, his best mate asked, slapping Greg on the shoulder.  
“Dunno, absorbed in thoughts I guess.” Greg quickly tried to discretely dry off his tears.  
“You Ok?”  
“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just wanted to see how the new outdoor area looks like and then got distracted by this beautiful view.” Greg lied.  
Peter nodded and went back inside. He shortly returned with a chair which he placed in front of Greg. Peter sat down so that he was now the same heigh as Greg. This little gesture nearly made Greg starting to cry again. No one had ever done this before. The all either stood so that Greg had to look up most of the time or when they actually did sit down it was because there was a chair, a bench or table to sit at and not with the intentional purpose of getting down to his heigh.  
Peter leaned forward. “No, how are you really Greg. You always say your fine but right now you don't look like it to me. Be honest. How are you coping?”  
Greg snuffled. “How I cope? Look at me. I'm a 46 year old man crying on his own birthday. The littlest things make me cry nowadays, you know? It sucks. I should be inside and have fun with you guys being happy that I'm still alive. But I just can't. It's a lot to handle right now, Peter. It is just to much for me. There is always the anxiety about the future. That I won't be able to walk again. That I will be treated differently for the rest of my life because I'm not normal any more. I notice that people look at me differently since I'm in that damn wheelchair. Even my friends when they visit me in rehab or here at the party. I know they don't do it on purpose but it still kinda hurts. Do you know that you are one of the few persons who treat me the same way like before I got shot?” Peter slowly shook his head. “You are. And I really appreciate that you came out to see if I'm all right. Thank you.”  
Peter got up from his chair. “That's what mates are for. You're not different to me because your a couple of inches shorter for now. Actually it makes me being taller for once which will finally give me an advantage over you with the ladies.”  
Greg wiped away the tears and smiled. “Well but not for long, so you better don't get used to it. And I don't know what your wife thinks about that anyway. But if we were on the hunt like back in the days I would still collect more numbers than you. Do you know what the nurses called me in hospital? Silver Fox.” They both started to laugh.  
“See that's the attitude I want to see from you. And by the way – you've found yourself quite a nice lady I must say. I had the pleasure to talk to her tonight. She's great. Good looking and intelligent...you don't get that often. Especially not at our age.”  
Greg chuckled “Thanks. Yes I really like her and I hope that it'll work out between us. She's the woman I can see myself getting old with. Molly is such a great support for me during this time. Helping me keeping my spirits up and to never lose hope. Did you know that she and my sons had planed all of this?” Greg asked with a happy smile.  
"No I didn't know. You're ready to go back inside?”  
“Not right now, sorry. I think I still need a couple of minutes.” Greg said slowly wheeling towards the fence.  
“Mind if I quickly fetch our pints and then join you?”  
“No, not at all,” he answered, resting his arms on it and looked over to the Tower Bridge.  
  
A couple of minutes later Molly turned instead of Peter and handed him his pint.  
“Peter said that you would probably prefer me over him right now.” Molly explained.  
A smile crossed Greg's face. “This man knows me like no one else.”  
Greg took a couple of sips and looked at Molly.  
"I'm so sorry,” she started. “ Your sons thought that you would enjoy seeing your old friends and colleagues on your birthday. And so did I. We didn't know that...”  
“It's Ok, Molly. I do. It's a great idea they had and I love them for that but it's all a lot to handle. It just became to much for me right now. I just needed some time for myself.”  
  
Molly had moved the chair Peter had left outside and was now sitting next to Greg. For a while they both stared out at the Thames watching some boats passing by.  
“Do you know that this was the place I wanted to take you on our first date?” Greg said breaking the silence. “Before I got shot.”  
“Really. That would've been lovely. And I guess that you just had chosen this location because of the nice view and the good food and that it has nothing to do with the close proximity to your bedroom.” She replied with a wink.  
“Of course not. I would've never thought of such thing!” Greg tried to look as innocent as possible but couldn't hide his typical boyish smile. “But now that you mention it – I know how dangerous the streets of London can be at night. Don't you think it would be best to spend the night somewhere near instead of having to travel all the way up to Leyton?”  
Molly started to laugh and rested her head on Greg's shoulder. “Well if Scotland Yard says that is too dangerous than I guess I have no choice.”  
“It most certainly is.” Greg put his arm around Molly and together they sat there enjoying each others warmth in that chilly early summer night until Greg moved his head and looked at her. He took her chin in his hand and slowly pulled her closer, their lips touched and their shared a long and passionate kiss.   
After a while they parted. "I think we should go back inside," Greg said, looking at Molly, "I'm sure the others are missing us already."  
"Yes, we should." They shared another long kiss and then made their way back to Greg's birthday party. 


	10. Chapter 10

When they had come home from the party late last night they both really wanted each other. Greg quickly saw the boys to bed while Molly went into Greg's bedroom.  
When Greg came in she was already lying on his bed only wearing her bra and a string. He transferred himself onto the bed and began to undress. His shirt flew off quickly but he struggled with his pants. Greg was starting to get annoyed when Molly put a hand on his chest softly pushing him down.  
“Here, let me do it,” she said and gently pulled down his pants. Moving up again she began kissing Greg's stomach, working her way up past the chest until she had reached Lestrade's lips. He moved his head up a bit and they shared a long passionate kiss. Molly could feel Lestrade's hands on her back, searching for her bra fastener. It didn't took him long to open it. Molly smiled at him. “Quite experienced, eh?”  
Greg grinned pulling down the straps from Molly's shoulders and removing the bra. He exhaled deeply., his hands gently massaging Molly's breasts. Molly threw her head back and moved her right hand into Lestrade's crotch but was quickly stopped by Lestrade who pulled it back upwards.  
“Sorry. Pointless, still no feeling there,” he whispered apologetically.  
“Don't be. I'm so sorry. Force of habit, I guess.” Molly answered, feeling bad that she had forced him to bring that topic up.  
“It's Ok.”  
Awkwardly they just lay there for a couple of seconds until Greg pushed himself up and whispered in Molly's ear: “But what about showing you what I'm capable of with my tongue?”  
It had been some hassle to find a comfortable position for both of them without Greg having to move around the bed too much but after they had found it it didn't took Greg long to start Molly make groan and moan out of pleasure. She grabbed his hair and pushed her hips upwards.  
“God, that was just amazing, your are unbelievably good. Dear god,” she stammered after she came, catching her breath.  
Greg moved himself up the bed and collapsed next to Molly. “I'm so happy right now,” he whispered while he gently stroke her face.  
“So am I.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Molly opened her eyes and involuntarily blinked as she was momentarily blinded by the sun. She turned her head and looked over to Greg who was still sound asleep, lying on his stomach, arms spread wide. He was only wearing boxer shorts which were partly obscured by the blanked. Molly smiled and propped herself up an elbow while the fingers of her other hand gently stroke Lestrade on the back of his neck. Greg let out a pleasured moan but didn't fully wake up. She slowly made her way down carefully avoiding the bandages on the exit wounds and on the incision of his spinal cord surgery. She stopped shortly behind where the incision began knowing that Greg wouldn't feel much further down. “'T’s nice,” Lestrade mumbled into his pillow.  
Molly leaned forward and kissed him between his shoulder blades. Slowly Greg turned his head towards Molly. He looked at her with sleepy eyes, spotting an happy smile.

  
“Doesn't it hurt sleeping on your stomach?” Molly asked.  
“It does, not as bad as one would think, though. But I sit on my arse the whole day so I don't want to lie on it when I'm sleeping. Plus I've always preferred sleeping on my stomach. So as soon as I was able to do it without being in too much pain I went for it.”  
They were sharing an other long and passionate kiss when suddenly someone knocked on the door.  
“Daaaad? Where are the...? James asked, knocking again.  
“Leave them alone” Oliver interrupted him, “they are probably...”  
“Eww!” Oliver must have made an explicit movement. “That's just gross.”  
Greg could hear James and Oliver leaving. He looked at Molly and started to laugh. Pushing himself up he said “I think it's time to get up.” Greg grimaced when a sudden pain flared through his body. He lied back down again taking a couple of deep breaths.  
“You Ok?” Molly looked at him concerned.  
“Yeah, yeah, 'm fine,” Lestrade replied breathing through the pain. “Probably was just a little bit too much yesterday. Just give me a couple of minutes.”  
“Do you need your pain meds?”  
“Nah, 'm good. Will be over soon.” He managed a strained smile. Something didn't felt right but he didn't want to worry Molly and his sons. He would get it checked out when he was back at rehab. Molly got up, dressed herself and threw his sweatpants on the bed so that he could reach it easily.  
“I'll be at the kitchen getting breakfast ready. Come over whenever you feel ready.”  
He allowed himself a couple of minutes listening to Molly clattering around. “Do you want a cup of tea?” Molly asked from the kitchen.  
“Yes, thanks. I'll be there in a minute.” Lestrade shouted back. The pain had gotten less so Lestrade dared another try in getting up. But as soon as he had raised his chest a couple of inches it got worse again. Greg fought through the pain and was finally able to sit up. He noticed that it was harder to breath and that it hurt every time he took a breath. Ignoring this he put on his pants and moved himself towards the edge of the bed and into his wheelchair. The pain only got worse as soon as he was sitting in his chair. He needed some painkillers soon, Greg decided. He grabbed a T-Shirt from his wardrobe and made his way towards the bathroom where his medication was at.  
“Morning,” Oliver greeted him coming out of his room trying his best to not look at his father's bandaged torso. “You're alright? You look a bit pale.”  
“Morning, Oliver. No, it's all good. Probably just a little hangover from last night.” Greg forced a smile and quickly entered the bathroom. He locked the door and with shaking hands he opened the box that contained his medicine. He took two pills at once, hoping that it will kill the pain quickly. 

Slowly the pain was dulled. Lestrade put on his shirt and made his way to the kitchen. He still had some trouble breathing but at least he wasn't in that much pain anymore. “Great,” he thought. “One day tasting the normal life and you feel like shit.” In hindsight he maybe shouldn't have had the shots with Peter. His body was still weaken and in combination with his medication couldn't handle alcohol as good as before. Lestrade had felt sick shortly afterwards and had to throw up on the toilet. That probably hadn't done any good.  
Molly and his sons where sitting at the kitchen table. “Hey,” Greg greeted them.  
Molly handed him his tea, “feeling better?”  
“Yeah, all good now,” Greg lied. “So what's the plan today?”  
“Our train leaves in a couple of hours, so you maybe could see us off at the station?” James asked.  
Greg hesitated a moment. He didn't really felt up to a trip halfway through London but he also didn't want to disappoint his sons. He wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. “Yes, of course. Maybe we can stop somewhere and grab something for lunch.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

They had just finished their lunch when Greg received a text from Sherlock demanding to see him as soon as possible. Greg groaned. The tube ride had been horrible and hadn't really helped with the pain and his breathing. He never had actually noticed before but the tube was not easy to use when you are in a wheelchair. It was crowded as always and no one was particular happy to have to squeeze even more to make room for Greg, so understandingly he was in no mood for Sherlock.  
Non the less he texted back: “Sons leaving in half an hour. Get a cab and pick me up at King's Cross.”

40 Minutes later Lestrade was sitting outside the station waiting for Sherlock to arrive. The farewell had been quick but emotional and his sons promised to see him again as soon as possible. “Take care of yourself Dad,” Oliver had said and when Greg wasn't able to suppress a hiss during the following hug he whispered so that only Greg could hear it: “and get whatever is bothering you since this morning checked out by a doctor, Ok?”  
Lestrade was brought out of his thoughts by a well known figure in a long coat exiting a taxi in front of him.  
“Get in Lestrade.”  
“Nice to see you too, Sherlock,” he grumbled wheeling towards the taxi.  
Moving from the wheelchair into the car took a ridiculous amount of strength and had left Lestrade out of breath. Sherlock looked at him suspiciously but didn't say anything. Instead he leaned over to the driver and gave him the destination. “221b Baker Street, please.”  
“Wait a second Sherlock. I'm not going to Baker Street.” Sherlock looked puzzled. “Firstly I have no clue on how you are planning to get me up those stairs, and no I won't sit in Mrs. Hudson's kitchen and secondly I have no ambition to pay a bloody fortune to get a cab back home.”  
“Right, yes of course.”  
Lestrade gave the driver his address and leaned back, breathing through the pain which appeared to be getting worse again.  
“Ok, now please tell me what you and Donovan were talking about last night?” Greg asked after he finally had at least his breathing under control.  
“Ah, that. Nothing of importance.”  
“Sherlock, I'm not stupid.” Seeing Sherlock's look he sharply added: “No, I am not. I know that you two are up to something. Normally you are only exchanging insults, so what is it Sherlock?”  
Sherlock hesitated for a moment before he replied. “Never mind that, not of importance right now. What I want to talk to you about is Dimmock. He's a pain in the arse, not letting me on his cases. Could you...”  
“SHERLOCK!” Greg suddenly shouted. He was really going to lose his temper. “I'm not going to be your bloody middleman between you and Dimmock. I really have other problems right now rather than to bloody care about you getting cases. It's Dimmock's division right now and I am not going to tell him how to do his work.” He leaned back suddenly feeling utterly tired and out of breath. He closed his eyes and took some careful breaths. He didn't noticed the cabby slightly turning around trying to figure out what these two men in the back were fighting about and he didn't noticed Sherlock looking at him through narrowed eyes.  
With his eyes still closed he cleared his throat, “look Sherlock, if that's the only thing you wanted to talk to me about I'm going to stop this cab and leave. I thought you wanted to tell me something about McNish, but this obviously isn't the case.” He leaned forward to tell the cabby to stop at the next possibility when Sherlock intervened.  
“Now you are just acting stupid, Lestrade.”  
Greg let out a bitter sob, “Sherlock, please. Now is really not the time to insult me. If there is no evidence to place McNish with the shooting, it's fine. I'll live. Just tell me Ok? It's been over 3 month since the shooting now, Sherlock. 4 weeks since I gave you a name. If you weren't able to find anything during that time, I'm pretty sure nobody will.”

  
Sherlock looked at Lestrade. He took in his features, the sunken eyes, the ashen face. The strained rise and fall of his chest, the way the DI held his upper body. Was this all only because of the argument they had? No, Sherlock decided. There was something else wrong with the Detective Inspector. He needed to get him home as soon as possible and preferably get him to see a doctor.   
“Lestrade, listen. What about we get you home and I tell you everything I found out so far and together we decide if it's worth further investigating. And to answer your question from earlier – Donovan and I were discussion that same matter.” It was only a small lie. In fact they had discussed when they should remove McNish from that government facility and let Lestrade know that he is in custody.  
Lestrade nodded. “Sounds fine to me.” The rest of the way they rode in silence.

 

* * *

 

 

“Everything Ok, Lestrade?” Sherlock asked truly concerned when he noticed the pale face and the laboured breathing of the DI getting worse after they had entered his flat. He had been barely able to manoeuvre his wheelchair towards his living room.  
“Yes, only a bit dizzy. Probably just need a glass of water.” Greg vaguely noticed Sherlock leaving, the pain in his chest and abdomen was now unbearable and he was fighting to get enough oxygen into his lungs. The darkness around the edge of his vision was creeping closer. 

When Sherlock came back from the kitchen he suddenly found Greg slumped forward in his chair. He dropped the glass and quickly sprinted towards him.   
“Lestrade?”  
Lestrade could feel long cold fingers touching him, moving him so that he was sitting upright again. He tried to push through the wall of blackness that had engulfed him. His eyes fluttered.  
“Answer me Greg!”  
“Mmm?” That made him cough which sparked a whole new level of pain. He felt something wet on his lips.  
“Molly, call an Ambulance! Now!” Molly was standing behind Sherlock, tears streaming down her face. It took her a couple of seconds until she sprung into action.  
“No...'mfine.”It was hardly audible.  
“Don't be stupid, Greg. You're obviously not fine, if that's what you were trying to say.”  
Greg opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock or at least tried to. ”Greg? Though' udunno 'm name. Tha'bad?” he slurred.  
“Yes, that bad. You should've gone to a doctor, you stupid idiot. I'm going to lie you down, Ok?”  
“'sssok”  
Gently Sherlock moved Greg out of his wheelchair, cursing himself when Greg let out a painful groan and laid him onto the couch, his upper body supported by pillows to ease his breathing. Greg closed his eyes but instantly felt someone gently slapping his face.  
“Oh no, you are not going to pass out on us, Detective Inspector. Stay awake and keep breathing.”  
“'s hurss.”  
“I know, but fight through it. The ambulance will be here soon.” Sherlock looked over to Molly who nodded confirmedly. Greg stretched out his arm, trying to reach Molly. “'msssryy”  
She stepped over and took his hand between hers. “Don't worry Greg.” She knelt next to him and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Try not to talk and concentrate on breathing, Ok?” Greg nodded.  


He must have passed out because suddenly strange face was in his line of vision. Puzzled he searched for Molly who had been asked to stand back while the paramedics were working on him.   
“It's Ok, Greg. Let them do their work,” she smiled through tears in his direction. Someone was placing something on his face. Greg tried to wipe it away but was stopped by a man who explained that it was a mask that would help him breathe. Greg nodded and relaxed a bit when the drugs he had been given a couple of moments before began to work. He heard Molly explaining his previous injuries to the other medic and that he had spoken about being in pain this morning and that it took him a long time until he was finally able to get up.  
Greg tried to deny that it had taken him -a long time- to get up but his words were lost under the CPAP mask.  
“It looks like you might have re-injured something in your abdomen and one or both of your lungs,” the first medic explained. Greg groaned.  
“Did you take any pain medication this morning or throughout the day?” The second medic asked.  
“'mrng” Greg said muffled.   
“Ok, and how many? Just show me with your fingers.”  
Greg stretched two of his fingers on his right hand.  
“And how would you describe the level of pain your in right now from 0 to 10 with 0 being in no pain at all?”  
Greg hesitated shortly and then showed a 6 with his fingers.  
“I would add one or two. Knowing our Detective Inspector he's probably trying do downplay his pain level,” Sherlock offered. Lestrade groaned and rolled his eyes.  
“Ah, a copper. I see. So, is it more like a 8 or even a 9 then?”  
“eigh'” Greg slurred defeated.  
“See, wasn't that bad, was it?” Greg shook his head. The medic smiled, “and now we can finally give you some of the good stuff that'll help with the pain.”  
While preparing the syringe with the painkiller the medic asked Greg if something had happened that might had caused his re-injury.   
“thr'up.” Molly and Sherlock looked at each other.   
“You threw up?” Greg nodded. “Concerning your previous abdominal injuries, is there anything we should know about? Problems with digesting food?”   
Shaking his head Greg replied, “no, 'sallgood, mssstly. Think'twas th'alcohol.”   
The paramedic looked over to Molly and Sherlock. “Did he had any alcohol?” he asked sharply.   
Molly turned red and stammered, “yes, last night. But only two pints. Didn't see him drinking anything else. Told him to take it easy. Said one is enough but it was his birthday and...I don't know. I'm so sorry.” Tears were falling down her cheeks.   
Sherlock looked over to Molly and shook his head. “Must have been more if he said that he had to puke.” The paramedic laid a hand on Molly's shoulder.   
“no'herfaul'. Had shotsswithm'mate. 'ssupid. I'now.” All that talking resulted in a coughing fit.   
“Yes it was. And now we get you to the hospital to repair the damage.”

Greg was lifted from the couch to the stretcher and wheeled down the corridor towards the lift. He hoped that none of his neighbours would come out to see what the fuzz was all about.   
They reached the street and the medics loaded him into the ambulance. Molly exchanged a quick word with Sherlock and then climbed into the back.  
During the ride Greg slipped in and out of consciousness, Molly never letting go of his hand.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Greg closed his eyes trying to avoid the blinding lights moving past his head. He was wheeled through a hospital corridor, he noticed. Turning his head he saw Molly walking by his side, holding his hand and he clutched it like a lifeline. A door opened at his feet and he heard a voice saying, ”I'm sorry, Miss. But you can't come any further. Please have a seat in the waiting area. We'll let you know as soon as you can see him.”   
“No,” Greg mumbled under is mask, shaking his head. He was utterly afraid and in pain. He didn't want to be alone. He lifted his head and pleadingly looked over to Molly.  
She looked down on him, her eyes mirroring his own fear. “Sorry, I can't come with you. The doctors need to check on you. But I'll be there as soon as they have you sorted out, I promise."  
Greg could feel the darkness claiming him once more. “plsss? 'mfraid.” But before Molly could answer Greg had lost the fight for consciousness again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Greg woke up hearing the dreaded background noises of a hospital. The sun was shining through a window on the other side of the room. Something obscured half his face, pushing air into his lungs. For a few seconds he thought that he was on a ventilator again until he recognized that it only was a mask.  
He slowly turned his head awaiting Molly sitting by his site only to find the chair empty. He closed his eyes, letting sleep claim him again.

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke up again his room was dark. A loud snoring came from the bed next to Greg's. It took him a couple of confusing minutes to figure out where he was. Then it came crashing down, him collapsing in his living room, the ambulance, Molly crying, him being wheeled off. Lestrade's breathing quickened. He began to panic. Again it felt like he wasn't getting enough oxygen. An alarm sound went of on a monitor and a few minutes later a nurse appeared calming Lestrade down.  
“Everything is fine, Mr. Lestrade. The mask will provide you with enough oxygen. Nothing to worry about right now, just try to go back to sleep.” His eyes fell shut shortly after the nurse gave him a mild sedative through his IV. 

 

* * *

 

The next thing that woke him was someone holding his hand. This and pain. Lestrade groaned and opened his eyes seeing Molly sitting by his bed reading a book.   
He wanted to say -Hi- but it only came out as a whimper.  
She quickly closed the book and leaned over him. “Hey, nice to see you awake again,” she smiled.  
Greg moved his head from side to side letting out an other groan.  
“I'll let the nurse know that you are awake.” Molly said, pushing the call button.  
Greg looked around and noticed the second bed with a man in his 20s lying in it watching something on his laptop. “No special treatment this time then,” he thought to himself. And as if Molly could read his thoughts she explained, “since it was completely your fault this time, Sherlock didn't see the necessity to treat you with a single room.”  
This caused an other groan from Greg. “ 's not fair,” he muttered under the breathing mask.  
“It is. You scared us as hell. Don't you dare to do something that stupid again.” Molly wiped away a tear. “Well at least he did ask Mycroft to make sure your rehab spot isn't given away.”  
Greg was saved by the nurse who just entered the room. “Good morning, Mr. Lestrade. I don't know if you remember but we had the pleasure last night when you briefly woke up.”  
Lestrade slowly shook his head, “no...sorry.”  
“No problem, now let me see. Your signs are looking good so far.” The nurse send an encouraging smile towards Greg and Molly. “No Mr. Lestrade, the mask has to stay on for a couple of days I'm afraid,” she quickly added upon noticing Greg's intention to pull it of. “The doctor will be here soon to talk to you about your condition. Are you in any pain right now?”  
Lestrade nodded and the nurse explained the self administering button on the site of his bed to him. “I'll push it now for you, the next time you feel any pain, just push it again and you'll be given the right dose.”  
Greg noticeably relaxed as soon as the medication was administered through his IV. He smiled at the nurse,”thanksss.”  
“You're welcome,” she smiled back. 

A couple of minutes later the doctor arrived. She was a young woman around the 30s probably just finished with her studies. Greg decided that he liked her.   
“Hi I'm Catherine Haley Your doctor during your stay here.” She introduced herself. “Ok, Mister Lestrade. You did quite a number on your first day out.”  
“Jus'callme Greg,”  
“Alright, Greg. You really have to take it slow from now on. You seriously re-injured your intestines and your lungs as well as some muscles in your chest. Are you sleeping on your chest by any change?”  
He nodded. Greg could feel his brain going mushy. God, he hated it to be under the influence of heavy painkillers.  
“You've gotta stop that until you are fully pain free, understand?”  
Dutifully Greg nodded again.  
“Now please remove the blanked so that I can check your chest.”  
”Why does she want to see my chest,” Greg wondered.”Is she flirting?” “psss, 'mgrlfriend 's'ere,” he said slowly nodding towards Molly.  
Both women exchanged amused looks.  
“Greg, I'm not flirting with you, this is purely professional, so would you...”  
“'mno'Greg. 'sss SssilverFoox. Comesssfro'ICU. evryone's callin'methat,” Greg interrupted giving her a groggily smile.  
Molly was hardly able to suppess a laughter.  
“What the hell is he on about?” Catherine Haley asked her while she removed the blanked.  
“I have no clue, but I'm desperate to find out.”  
“hadno' workout. Sry. 'snormly trained. No lied. 'mlazy. Dontrain. Mstly deskwor'now. Sosssory.” Greg was now apologizing for his untrained body.  
Molly couldn't hold it back anymore and started to laugh. “God, I'm an awful, laughing at my heavily drugged partner.”  
“No, it's pretty normal. And he really is kinda funny. Is he always like that when he's on heavy painkillers?”  
“Unfortunately I don't know. The last time he was on them he was intubated so he wasn't able to talk.”  
“Ah, what a pity.” 

“sswha'sthe verdic'?” Greg asked after Doctor Haley had finished controlling his chest.   
“You've gotta stay here for at least a week until we are sure that your lungs are back to were they were before that incident and that the injury to your intestine is healed nicely. We don't want you moving around much during that time. Took us quite an effort to stitch you up again.”  
“'sOk. Won'tryt'move. Haven'tsin'youcame, have I? 'nd did no'tryin' lyin'onchest too, juslike yousaid.” He looked at both of them rather pleased with himself.  
“Yes, well done Greg. Keep that up the next days and you'll be discharged in no time,” Dr. Haley said patting Greg's shoulder. “And let me know what he means with silver fox,” she said to Molly before she left the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Greg woke early the next morning. The guy in the bed next to him was snoring loudly. It took him a considerable amount of self-control to not throw something at him. He was in a really bad mood. He was annoyed that he was back on getting his nutrition through a IV again, annoyed that he had to wear an oxygen mask and most of it all he was pissed at himself that he had gotten himself back in hospital and wasn't allowed to move. He was back to square one just because he had been so bloody stubborn and hadn't seen a doctor right away. Greg grunted and turned his head pulling half the pillow over his ear. It didn't help. He could still hear that dreadful snoring.

 

He was put out of his misery a couple of hours later when a nurse entered and woke his bed-neighbour to check on him and to give him his breakfast.  
“I'm Jason by the way,” he introduced himself chewing on a slice of bread.  
“Greg,”  
“Nice to meet you. So did she forgot you or why is it that you didn't get any breakfast?”  
“Nah, had stomach surgery. Not allowed to eat for a while.”  
“Man, that sucks.”  
“It does,” Greg nodded.  
“How long until you are allowed to eat again?”  
“Don't know. Couple of days at least, last time it had been for some weeks. That really pissed me off.”  
“I can imagine.”  
Greg smiled. He was about to close his eyes and get some sleep when Jason suddenly started talking again, telling him why he was in hospital and that he was a student and really annoyed that he misses all the good parties. He just kept talking, that he had moved to London only recently and that he's sharing a flat with way to many people.   
Greg rolled his eyes. “Great a talker,” he thought to himself. He was still worn out from the surgery and just wanted to suffer in silence. Even though he had pressed his PCA button there was still this uncomfortable amount of pain left. Thinking about it, pursuing his Doctor to put him on some lighter painkillers in his PCA pump wasn't one of his most clever ideas. They were definitely different from the ones he had gotten back at the Royal. He again was on a constant morphine drip but the additional doses delivered when he pressed his PCA pump only numbed any acute pain, but it never quite vanished. Maybe he should talk to her and ask her if he could be switched back to the previous one.  
Jason was still talking so Greg put his polite face on and nodded or shook his head in disapprove at the appropriate times. As long as he didn't have to participate more than moving the head he could deal with it for now.

 

Later this day his room-mate was visited by some friends. It was a group of 3 men and two women, all in their mid twenties. Greg discretely pulled up his blanket and tried to concentrate on the book Molly thankfully had left him yesterday.  
“'scuse me, Sir?” a voice suddenly interrupted. Greg turned his head towards it. One of the women was looking over to him. “Do you mind if we borrow these?” She asked nodding at the two chairs next to Lestrade's bed.  
“No, not at all,” Greg replied, his voice muffled by his mask.  
The girl raised her eyebrows and leaned forward. “Pardon?” She sounded slightly uncomfortable.  
Raising his voice Greg repeated what he just had said.  
“Great, thanks.” The girl quickly moved both of the chairs over to the other bed and Greg devoted himself to the book again to take his mind of the constant pain that flared through his chest and abdomen.  
It didn't really work and the group next to him was talking quite loudly about some rather interesting gossip so Lestrade decided to ditch the book and do some eavesdropping. Normally he wasn't a big fan of it but with nothing else to do right now he found it a nice alternative to that horribly romantic book.  
He put the book back on his night stand and moved himself down the bed a little, wincing at the pain this small movement had caused. He pushed the button of his pump but nothing happened. Greg groaned. He pushed it again but there was still no relief. He closed his eyes and tried to breath through the pain, tried to take his mind off it but it didn't work. He fumbled for the button to call the nurse but wasn't able to find it. The pain was now becoming nearly unbearable and Greg wasn't able to suppress a whimper. He clawed his bed sheet when the pain that radiated through his body became particular sever.  
“Hey, you Ok, man?” Jason asked, the whole group now looking over to Greg. “Should I call the nurse for you?”  
Greg slowly turned his head, his face contorted with pain. For a brief moment he thought about denying that offer and just sit it out but then remembered that exactly this idiotic stubbornness of not acknowledging when he needed help had landed him here. He slowly nodded. “Yes please,” he whispered, the words lost under the mask.  
Jason pushed his call button and a short time later a nurse arrived.  
“How can I help you?” She piped. Jason pointed to Greg. “I think something's wrong with him. Looks like he's in some pain.”  
The nurse quickly made her way through the room and touched Greg slightly on his shoulder. “Mr. Lestrade, please open your eyes.”  
Greg blinked and slowly focused on the nurse at his side. “Hurts, pump not working,” he mumbled.  
“Let me check that out,” the nurse leaned over and pressed the button. “Hmm, when did you had your last dosage?”  
“Morning, I think,” Greg replied through gritted teeth. He was convinced that he'll pass out if he wasn't given anything soon.  
“I'm going to get you something for the pain and then I'm going to have that pump sorted out. Ok, Mr. Lestrade?”  
Greg nodded weakly and watched the nurse leave. After what felt like an eternity she finally returned with the painkiller which she directly administered via Greg's central line.  
Greg craned his neck and let out a deep breath when the pain began to vanish. “Thank you.”  
“No worries,” the nurse smiled back. “I'm going to unhook you and get you another pump so that this won't happen again.”  
Now after the pain had nearly vanished Greg closed his eyes and relaxed. Jason and his friends were rather loud, especially one of the girls who had a particular annoying laugh. Greg watched her for a while and came to the decision that she had a crush on Jason who on the other hand seemed more fond of the girl who had asked him if they could use his chairs. Greg groaned inwardly, hoping that there won't be any drama unfolding as long as he was stuck in the bed or that he would at least be allowed some popcorn to have with it.  
Thankfully they all left a short time later, of course not without the promise or threat, he wasn't quite sure, to visit again tomorrow and Greg used the new found silence to catch up on some sleep.

 

* * *

 

Lestrade opened his eyes and saw Molly sitting next to his bed. A smile formed on his lips.  
“Hey, how are you?” She said softly, wiping away a strand of hair from his forehead.  
“I'm Ok. Hurts, but I'll manage.”  
“Then why don't you ask the nurse to increase the dosage of your pain medication?”  
“Nah, asked her to switch me to... to lighter ones, actually. Don't like to be on the heavy stuff.” Greg had to pause every now and then to catch his breath.  
“You don't say,” Molly smirked.  
“Wha'?”  
Molly didn't reply only her smile grew a bid wider.  
“What? What is it?”  
“I think you are kinda cute when you are under the influence of strong pain medication.”  
Lestrade looked puzzled.  
“You are, Silver Fox.”  
Greg could feel himself turning red. “Oh God. Please don't tell me I'd been blabbering,” he thought.   
“Care to elaborate?” Molly asked winking.  
He cursed. “See, that's why I don't like painkillers. I talk nonsense. It doesn't mean anything.”  
Molly raised her eyebrows. “Really?”  
Trying to look as clueless as possible Lestrade nodded.  
“So it has nothing to do with any recent stay in an Intensive Care Unit?” Molly kept probing.  
“Ok, _maybe_ this was my nickname amongst the nurses back at... at the Royal. God, this is so embarrassing.” he ran his hands over his eyes, “please don't tell anyone else. I'll never hear the end of it.”  
“I won't” Molly promised.  
“What...what else did I say?” Greg asked carefully, not really sure he wanted to know.  
“Well you were convinced that the doctor was flirting with you and you apologized multiple times that you hadn't worked out lately. Later you kept telling me a lot of stuff from when you were on the beat, didn't know that you were _that_ clumsy,” Molly winked, “and it seemed very important to you to let me know that the dwarf comment at John's wedding was only meant as a joke and that you totally knew who did it.”

Lestrade groaned. The wedding. He had felt quite depressed at the beginning, being one of the few poor sods without a date. He had thought about his own failed marriage, how happy he and Jane had been at their wedding. And then years later, when slowly the suspicion had crept up inside him that he wasn't the only man in her life. The fights, her denying everything at first then accusing him that his whole life evolved around the Yard and Sherlock. That he neglected her and hadn't given her any other choice. Her promise around Christmas a couple of years ago that they'll work it out. He had believed her, really wanting to rescue their marriage. Up until the point when he got hit between his eyes with Sherlock's comment that she's still sleeping with that PE teacher. The only thing that had cheered him up at the wedding was the free booze and the fact that he was sitting right next to Molly even though she was with her Sherlock lookalike boyfriend.  
He had used this opportunity to cast some sneaking looks at her. She looked really good in her yellow dress, reminding him of that Christmas party at John and Sherlock's a couple of years ago when she had turned up looking absolutely stunning. Thinking about it that probably was the moment were he started to feel more for her.  
They had a really good time at the wedding and it had seemed to Greg that she interacted more with him than with Tom. Until they both blew it with their stupid theories.  
“Yeah, about the wedding,” Greg began, “I really don't know what I thought... back then when I mentioned the dwarf. I was a bit tipsy. Made myself look like... like a fool in front of all the people. Which wouldn't have been too embarrassing, … managed worse during my career at the Met, but you...”  
Molly interrupted him “It's Ok, Greg. I actually liked your theory. It was funny, so don't worry. Anyone else would have made a fool of himself at that moment. Remember what Tom had said? _That_ was really embarrassing. And even Sherlock didn't had a clue at that time.”  
“But still, I better watch out with... with the alcohol and the heavy painkillers when I'm around you, before I do or say some... something really embarrassing,” Greg laughed.

“Speaking of alcohol,what the hell were you thinking, Greg?”  
“Please, can't we leave that alone?”  
“No we can't!”  
“Come on, it's nothing. I had a little too much. I regret it and I won't do it again, Ok?” Greg said annoyed.  
“I wouldn't call that nothing. You were still on strong painkillers. You weren't supposed to have any alcohol at all. I thought one pint would be Ok, that you knew that too and would stop after that. I even tolerated your second pint. But having shots? And not only one or two apparently. Greg you had to throw up because of them.”  
“It was one little slip.”  
“Sherlock told me you drank at rehab...”  
“Only a couple of sips while we played poker. I didn't get drunk.” Greg defended himself. “I'm not a bloody alcoholic if that's what you are implying.”  
“I'm not implying anything, but you've got to get your wits together. You've got to accept that there are things that are off limits right now. Things you just can't do at the moment.”  
“Yeah, like walking,” Lestrade muttered.  
“It's not all about that, Greg.”  
“Well it is for me. You don't know how it is. How should you. You can walk.”  
“Yeah well if you ever want to walk again than you've got to give your body the chance to heal. Talk to someone when something doesn't feel right. And stop doing stupid things like drink 'till you have to throw up or sleep on your chest despite the pain. I don't know if you remember anything the doctor said yesterday but according to her you re-injured your lungs because when you slept on your stomach some of your injured ribs moved and put pressure on your lungs. Damn it Greg, you being here is solely caused by your inability to accept your current boundaries. Nothing else.”  
“I didn't do it on fucking purpose. Do you think I like all of this? That I enjoy being in pain, bedridden, fed through a fucking tube again. That I'm not making any progress?”  
“Of course not. But Greg, you have to see my site as well. I was so scared when we found you, nearly unconscious. All I could think of was -please God, not again.- Do you know how much it hurts seeing you in pain? How hard it is to go through all of it again? Sitting next to you in the Ambulance holding your hand while you were slipping in and out of consciousness. Seeing you being wheeled away for surgery. Sitting there waiting until I'm allowed to see you. Waiting at your bedside for you to wake up.”  
“Well then just leave me if all of this is too much for you. You don't have to stay with me just because you feel sorry for me. I don't need you and your fucking pity. Go find yourself a real man just like my ex-wife did.”  
“Fuck you, Greg. Seriously...fuck you!” Molly shouted storming for the door. She opened it and turned around. Pain and anger clearly visible on her face. “I'm not with you because I feel sorry for you. I thought we were in a relationship. I have real feelings for you Greg and I wanted to support you so that you don't have to go through all of this alone. If you don't want it, fine. Push me away. But don't expect me to come back until you are ready to apologize.”  
“The fuck I will!”

Lestrade flinched when Molly slammed the door shut.  
“Whoa, trouble in paradise?” Jason asked “That'd been your wife?”  
“Not in the mood to talk right now.” Lestrade mumbled.  
“Sorry, I can't hear you under your mask.”  
With a sigh he turned around fumbling on his mask to get it off. He didn't had the power to raise his voice. “I said that I don't want to fucking talk right now!”  
Jason held up his hands in a defensive manner, “Sorry, man. I just...”  
“Just be quiet, Ok?”Greg sighed and looked out of the window, his mask dangling at the side of his face.

Jason started to reply something but was interrupted by a nurse who came to check what all that noise was about.  
“What in the name of the Lord is going on in here?” She asked sharply.  
“Oh nothing, it's all good now,” Jason explained. “He just had a little fight with his wife.” He nodded towards Greg.  
“Not my wife!”  
The nurse looked over to the bed under the window. Seeing that Lestrade wasn't wearing the mask she quickly made her way over to him and put it back on. “How often do I have to tell you that it has to stay on?”  
“I was just... no you know what? Fuck it..I'm sick of having to defend myself every day. Can't you all just leave me alone please?” Greg said defeated.  
“He was just talking to me, that's why he didn't have his mask on.”

The nurse looked at the man lying in the bed in front of her. He seemed utterly shattered. Like he had given up. “You know,” she began, her voice now soft and friendly, “we do offer counselling if you need someone to talk to about accepting your current situation.”  
“Fuck my current situation! I don't need any help. Why is nobody accepting that? I'm fine. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

Shocked by the sudden outburst the nurse took one step back. For a moment she thought about trying to calm the patient down, to comfort him but then decided against it. She knew about his back story. A police officer severely injured in the line of duty. Paralysed, possibly never able to walk again. Back in hospital after a major setback. She had dealt with patients like him before. Trying to force counselling on him in a situation like now would only make everything worse. He would shut down completely. She only could hope that he had friends who were there for him and that he was willing to open up to them.  
The nurse took one last look at Lestrade before leaving the room. His eyes were closed and the breathing hitched. Lines of tension were visible on his face. It looked like he was fighting not to cry. She felt sorry for him. Whatever he and his girlfriend were fighting about, she hoped that they'll sort it out quick.

 

* * *

 

It didn't get any better when early next morning two nurse arrived to give him a cleaning. Jason had the grace to leave the room to give Greg the privacy needed but still he begged to leave him be.  
“Please, you've got to understand. Just allow me one trip to the bathroom and I can perfectly wash myself.” He looked at them pleadingly. He was in no mood at all to be washed by a woman half his age and handled by a boy who looked like he was just out of school.  
They both denied Greg's wish, explaining to him that he was not allowed out of bed as long as his injuries hadn't healed up to a certain point. The situation escalated pretty quickly with Greg becoming quite agitated, suddenly ripping his IVs out, demanding his wheelchair so that he could leave. The boy looked visibly shaken and just stood there while the nurse put pressure on the insertion sites, trying to stop the blood flow. “Get the head nurse,” she shouted. “Tell her that a patient has pulled his central line.”

The boy turned on his heels and ran out of the room. The nurse now turned to Lestrade who as well looked quite shocked about what he just had done.  
“Look, I'm sorry,” he began. “I...I didn't meant to do this. I just... I don't know. I was frustrated, I clearly didn't think.”  
The head nurse arrived with a syringe and new IV sets. “So so sorry,” Lestrade added, looking at her. “Don't know what I thought. So stupid.”  
“It's Ok, Mr: Lestrade. We'll sort it out. I'll give you something that'll calm you down and then we'll get you hooked up to all that drips and clean you up again, Ok?” Smiling she added, “My colleague here will start at your arm, we don't want you to keep you off your continuous morphine drip for too long. Don't need any extra pain on top of all that, do we?”  
Greg nodded. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the nurses working on his neck and arm, putting the central line and regular IV back in.

 

Greg's mood didn't improve over the day. He snapped at the nurses and when John and Sherlock came to visit in the afternoon it was a pretty one-sided conversation and Greg's replies were rather brusquely.  
“What's wrong, Greg?” John asked truly concerned after Sherlock had left, annoyed that John had dragged him along when the Detective Inspector was clearly in no mood for visitors.  
“Nothing.”  
“Well there clearly is. I'm here since 20 minutes and you said what? 10 words? Greg, something is clearly bothering you. Talk to me.”  
“What if I don't want to talk? Why does everyone wants me to talk? What good does it do anyway? It won't make me walk again.”  
“It helps, believe me. Once you've got that weight off your chest you can fully concentrate on what really matters.”  
Greg let out a grunt. “As if you would know.”  
“I was shot too, remember? I had to leave the army because of it. A job I truly loved. I know how it feels Greg.”  
Greg let out a disapproving grunt. “At least it wasn't your fault.”  
John looked puzzled, “what do you mean by that?”  
“Doesn't matter.” Greg tried to avoid Johns eyes.  
“It seemingly does or you wouldn't have brought it up. Who says that all of this is your fault?”  
“Well everyone apparently.”  
“Greg, it is not your fault that you got shot. No one is saying this. How should you have seen that coming?”  
“Sherlock did.”  
“Sherlock is a bloody sociopath. I have no idea what is going on in his head and just to let you know even Sherlock had no clue that Greydon was about to shoot you. If he had we would've been there sooner.”  
Greg slowly shook his head and tried to roll onto his side to get away from John. He was stopped by a small but strong hand which firmly pressed on his shoulder. “No moving, Greg!”

Suddenly Greg exploded. “See that's what I mean. I'm bloody useless. Can't do a fucking thing. And if I do something it's wrong and I hurt myself and the people around me. I'm done with this shit. Leave, don't bother about me.”  
“Greg,..” John began but was interrupted by Greg, telling him to fuck off.  
“Ok then, can't force you.” John said standing up. “I can understand if you don't want to talk to me about it but promise me that you'll at least talk to somebody. Your best friend or Molly.”  
Upon hearing Molly's name Greg let out a huff. John stopped and walked back to Lestrade's bed.  
“Everything Ok between you two?” Greg shrugged his shoulders.  
An uneasy feeling crept up in John. He pulled the chair back and sat down, looking Lestrade straight into the eyes. “What happened, Greg?”  
“We fought. She shouted, I shouted and then she left.”  
“And let me guess, you did nothing to stop her?”  
Greg furrowed his brows. “Why should I? I told her that I don't need her pity, that she can leave and she did. So why bother?”  
“Oh Greg, you are utterly utterly stupid. Why do you push the people away that try to help you? I really hope that you come to your senses soon. Stop wallowing in self-pity.“  
John stood up again and leaned towards Greg, placing his hands on the side of the bed. “And don't be such an idiot, Greg. Don't push us away. We want to help you. If you pull this shit on every one of your friends you'll soon be very very lonely. Molly didn't act out of pity, she cares for you because she loves you. Call her, say that you are sorry.” John pushed himself up and made his way towards the door.

Greg turned his head away from John and let out a deep breath. He saw no point in apologizing to Molly. It was over and he was alone again. He would manage, he always did.


	12. Chapter 12

 

On his fifth day in hospital Greg was finally allowed out of bed. His mood instantly lightened up when the nurse arrived with his wheelchair, telling him that his doctors had cleared him for getting out of bed as long as he doesn't overdo it.

Greg had never thought that it would feel so good to be back in his wheelchair. What felt like a prison all the weeks before was now a piece of freedom for him. Finally he was able to get around again. After he had been transferred with the help of a nurse he just sat there for a while, letting his hands run over the rims on the wheels. He looked up to the nurse and smiled. “It's unbelievable how much I missed that thing. I mean it's only been a week but dear god did it drive me mad.”

“Yeah, and you us. So we thought the quicker we can get that man out of his bed the easier all our lives will be,” the nurse replied.

Letting out an uncomfortably laugh Greg apologized again for his unacceptable behaviour. He then gave himself a good push and made his way out of his room and towards the courtyard.

 

After he came back he noticed that Jason had been discharged which was a pity as Greg found out pretty soon. At first he was sure that he couldn't get punished with anything worse than constant snoring during the night and continuous visits during the day but what he got next was the absolute horror. It was a man, round about his age, who seemed to have some kind of drug problem as he kept calling the nurses to give him some morphine, even asking Greg if he could get him some.

When the man got visited by his wife, Greg noticed that the woman was coming down from a high. She was aggressive and demanded money from her husband so that she could buy new drugs. They fought for quite a while until, much do Greg's dismay, they decided that the time was better spend having sex. And not some quite, we mustn't be heard sex. They were loud and didn't even seemed to bother that Greg was lying just a couple of feet away. He just wanted to get out of the room but of course the decided to have their intermezzo right at the time when he was hooked up to his feeding tube and had no chance to escape.

“Oi,” he called over to the other bed. “You're not alone in here!” He was completely ignored, of course, making him wish that he was still on strong painkillers and could drug himself into oblivion.

It also seemed that this guy was some sort of sex addict not being able to sleep without jerking off and to make matters worse the guy seemed to have quite some affairs, how he managed that they didn't run into each other was a mystery to Greg, but they were all very keen on giving him a hand during the day.

The good news was that because he was allowed to move his physical therapy sessions were continued which meant that 3 times a day he got out of his room and was able to work on his legs. When he didn't had any therapy or wasn't hooked up to some tubes or IVs he tried to spent as much time as possible away from that man.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Greg groaned and picked his mobile up again. He had been discharged to rehab 2 weeks ago now and had long and helpful sessions with his psychiatrist about his current mood swings. The first one was shortly after the episode in the hospital where he had ripped out his IVs and at first he had seen no point in them at all but after some time he began to open up. He talked about his fear that he would be a burden to everyone around him, that people and his friends only see Greg the cripple and not the person he was before the injury. That his whole life is changing after his injury and would never be the same again. And like John, the therapist had told him that it is crucial that he kept his friends and loved ones close, that he needed the emotional support only they were able to give him.

 

So there he was now, sitting on his balcony , feeling the sun warming his skin. A couple of days ago he noticed that he was able to move some toes during one of his physical therapy session. Greg had never felt happier in his life. It was a start even though his therapist explained to him, that he still had a long road ahead until he was able to walk unassisted, if at all, and that they would start with the non weight assisted gait training as soon as the feeling and movement had improved. Right now his session consisted of weight assisted treadmill training and some sort of cycling machine where he was either lying down or sitting up and his legs were moved as well as other exercises.

He proudly showed his new skill to everybody who had visited him ever since. Which weren't many if he was honest.

 

Greg played with the mobile in his hand, rubbing over the buttons at its side. He opened the contacts and closed them right away. Then he went to his texts and scrolled through them. There were quite a few from his sons, the first ones full of worry and then later back to the old banter and that they still were looking forward to beat him at basketball when they come to visit him at rehab. Then there were the messages from his friends and colleagues and then there was the one from Sherlock : “Call her! SH”

Greg had no idea how Sherlock knew about his fight with Molly but he knew that Sherlock was right, that he should call her. He had behaved like an arsehole the last time he had seen her, his therapist and his friends had made that pretty clear to him. And if he was honest he really did miss her. The way she laughed and nearly always managed to cheer him up somewhat. Her little insecurity and how she was prone to blunder. The feeling of her next to him in his bed.

Greg let out a deep breath and looked down, running the palms of hands over his forehead and temples. God he really was an idiot pushing her away. He regretted the things he had said to her. He loved her and he needed her. “Call her,” he said to himself. “Just fucking call her and ask her to forgive you.” He opened the contacts again but still couldn't bring himself to press the call button next to Molly's name. What if she doesn't forgive him? His thumb hovered over the little handset symbol. Well, he wouldn't find out if he doesn't call so he brought his thumb down and watched as a picture of him and Molly appeared on his display when the call got connected. He loved that picture. He had taken it on one of their strolls through the park. In the background was the little lake they just had discovered. Molly was kneeling behind him, arms around his waist and head resting on his shoulder, smiling brightly. It was the first picture he had taken of them together and Greg really hoped that it wouldn't be the last.

After what seemed like an eternity Molly finally picked up. “Yes?” Her voice was cold and Greg's heart sank.

“Hi, um it's me, Greg.”

“Yes, I can see that on my display. What do you want?” Her voice still lacked all the warmth and kindness he loved so much.

“I...I...” Greg had no idea how to start. “Molly, look. I'm really really sorry. I behaved like an absolute arsehole back in hospital,” he could hear Molly drawing in a sharp breath.

“I'm an idiot. If I could move my legs I would kick myself,” he chuckled slightly, hoping for a similar reaction from the other end of the line but there was none.

“Can you please forgive me?”

Molly let out a deep breath. “Greg, it has been nearly 4 weeks now since our fight and I hadn't heard a word from you. Not even a text. You weren't an arsehole back then your were an arsehole since then. When I stormed out of your room I really expected to get a call or a text from you some days later when your mood and health would have improved but there was nothing.”

Greg tried to defend himself but was instantly interrupted by Molly, “no let me finish. You want me to forgive you, then let me talk. I heard nothing from you for 4 bloody weeks Greg. Do you know how much that had hurt on top of the things you had said to me? And now you expect me to forgive you because you finally decided to call me? It's not that easy, Greg. No. We need to talk about this. Seriously talk about it and I don't mean over the phone.”

“Yes, of course. I didn't expect... I mean I don't know what I thought. Um, yeah, let's meet. Do you want to come to the rehab facility or should we meet somewhere else? I can... I think I can come to London if you want that.” Greg noticed that he was rambling. He felt horrible.

“No, it's Ok. I'll come over.”

“Great, what about Saturday?” He asked.

“Sorry, meeting some friends then. Can't cancel that but how about Sunday? 'Round 2 o'clock?”

“Perfectly fine, whenever suits you best.”

“Good, see you then.” And with that Molly ended the call.

 

Greg leaned forward and put his head in his hands. That didn't went as he had expected. He knows that it's stupid but somehow he had hoped that after this call everything would be alright between them. And now it looks like he was far away from it and that he had to put a lot of effort in to convince Molly that he truly was sorry. Greg groaned. God he really was an expert in driving the women he loved out of his life. First his ex-wife and now Molly.

The next call he made was to John, apologizing for his behaviour in hospital. At least John accepted his apology and promised to visit soon with Sherlock.

 

 

* * *

 

 

On Sunday Greg took an extra long shower after his PT session and put on the best outfit he had here in rehab. It was just a jeans and a short sleeved button-down shirt but still was a great improvement to the tracksuits trousers and shirts he'd normally wear.

It was nearly 2 o'clock and Greg was fairly nervous. He had no idea what the outcome of this talk would be. A slight knock on the door made him jump. “Come in,” he called turning his chair towards the door.

 

Molly opened the door and slowly entered Greg's room. He was looking up to her licking his lips, something Greg always did when he was nervous or insecure as Molly had noticed shortly after she had met him the first time.

“Hi,” he greeted her with a soft voice.“You're...um, you're looking good.”

“Thanks,”she smiled and settled herself on one of the chairs.

“Do you, um, do you want something to drink? I've got some juice or water.”

“Water's just fine, thanks.”

Greg poured her a glass and positioned his chair so that he was facing Molly. He looked at her with his expressive brown eyes. “Listen,” he began, again running his tongue over his lips. “I'm... I mean I'm... I have no idea why I said the things that I said back in hospital. I honestly didn't mean them. I'm so so sorry that I hurt you. I don't know. I was frustrated and depressive. I know that that is no excuse for what I did but maybe it's an explanation.”

Molly studied the man in front of her. He looked so afraid and insecure and Molly had to fight the urge to to hug him and tell him that everything is gone and forgiven. But she couldn't give in. What he had done had hurt her on a level she never had been hurt before. Not even with Sherlock's disregards towards her flirting or when she learned that Jim was Moriarty and only used her to get to Sherlock.

“Greg, what you had said, that my feelings towards you were solely based on pity, you can't imagine how much that had hurt. I cried for days. Did you know that? Every time I got a call or a text I hoped that it was from you, saying that you were sorry but that never happened. Do you know how that feels, fighting not to cry again every time after noticing that the call or text didn't come from you?”

Greg slowly shook his head. “Molly, I can only repeat myself. I'm so so sorry. Please, believe me when I say that nothing of what I had said is true. I … I,” he paused and ran his hand through his hair. “ I need you Molly, I don't know if I can handle all of this alone.”

“Well it's a bit late, isn't it? 4 bloody weeks, Greg. 4 weeks full of agony. And what do you mean you need me because you can't handle this alone?” She gestured towards his wheelchair and his room. “That you just want me back so that I can give you moral support because nobody else is giving that to you? What did you do, Greg? Been an arsehole to your other friends as well?”

Greg's eyes narrowed. “Wha'? No!”

“Don't fucking lie to me Greg. I talked to John. I know what you said to him.”

Greg swallowed hard and was about to say something when he was stopped by Molly. “Don't. I know that John and me weren't the only ones who had to suffer under your temper. I understand that what happened to you is something not easy to cope with but that is no excuse to treat the people around you the way you did. It's not easy for us either, you know? You say that you're sorry but how can I be sure that something like that won't happen again?”

“You can't,” Greg said shakily after a long pause.

Molly looked at him, noticing his eyes were filling with tears.

“ I'm working on it, I truly am. I'm seeing a psychiatrist, but I can't promise that it won't happen again. That I won't push you away because I'm frustrated. I'm taking antidepressants to keep the moments of extreme depression at bay but it might happen. Right now I'm fine. PT is working well and I'm making progress. But I know that there will be times again were I'll have the feeling that all of this is pointless. I know it's a lot to ask from you, but this will be the times were I need you the most. Because I love you and only you can give the support that I need, no one else. Not my best friends, not my family. It's you that I need even though it seems that I'm pushing you away. But I don't want to see you hurt and asking you to go through all of this again and again would be very selfish, so maybe, “ his voice broke, “ maybe it would be better if we don't see each other until I can be sure that episodes like the one in hospital won't happen again.”

Greg looked at her with an utterly sad expression and Molly's shield began to crumble. She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry. That she would stay strong but now she could feel tears running down her face. Greg took her in his arms, his warm body pressed against hers. “I'm sorry, Molly. I wish I could promise you that it won't happen again.” She could feel his breath on her neck, smelled his aftershave. “But I can't,” his breathing hitched, he was fighting not to cry she noticed. “And if that's your condition to forgive me, then maybe it's better if you don't.”

Greg looked up and took her face in his hands. “Please don't cry,” he wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “We'll work it out somehow.”

“But what if I want to forgive you? What if I want to be with you during those times? Like you said, Greg. You can't go through it alone. You need me as much as I need you.”

“But I will let out my bad mood out on you again at some point and I don't want to hurt you, Molly.”

She forced a smile through her tears, “ like you said, we'll work it out somehow. Just promise me one thing, Greg.” She looked him deep in his eyes, “never say again that I'm just with you because of pity and don't you dare to tell me again to find me a real man. You are a real man, Greg. The best man a woman could wish for.” “Well most of the time at least, ”she added with a cheeky smile.

Greg chuckled, “ I promise.” He gave her a long kiss then suddenly pushed his wheelchair away from her, a huge smile forming on his face. “Oh by the way. There's something I want to show you!” he said lifting his left leg up onto the opposite knee, taking off his shoe and sock.

Molly had a slightly puzzled look on her face. “I have no clue what..”

“Just look at my toes,” Greg said through gritted teeth, now spotting a concentrated look.

Molly did as she was told and couldn't stop a yelp of delight when she noticed that Greg was actually wiggling them. “Oh my god, Greg. Unbelievable. That's great!”

“Innit?” A proud smile broke through his strained face. “Takes a lot of effort, but still.”

“Since when are you able to move them?”

Greg puts his sock back on, “ round about a week now. Happened at one of my PT sessions. Never thought that wiggling my toes would make me so happy.”

Molly let out a laugh.“Are you able to move them on both feet or only on your left foot?”

“Nah, nothing on the right side.”

“But this still is good news I guess in terms of being able to walk again, isn't it?”

“Yeah, well at least partly. Doctor said that there is always the possibility that I won't regain full movement back. But it's a good sign that it actually is returning, yes. Means that the nerves and the spinal cord are beginning to heal and start remembering how to work. “ Greg leaned forward in his chair and pulled Molly onto his lap. “And maybe something else will start feeling and working again soon too,” he added with an ambiguous smile.

Molly slipped her hands under Greg's shirt. “Shall we give the nerves some special therapy?” She whispered in Greg's ear and nodded towards his bed.

“We certainly should.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Greg sat at a table in the cafeteria, stretching his toes. It took him another month of hard work but finally he was able to control more muscles in his left leg and if he concentrated really hard he could now slightly bend his knee. But there was still no movement returning in his right leg which frightened him a great deal. His doctors assured him that it sometimes took one limb longer than the other to regain movement and that he should not worry about that.

His therapists where preparing him to start non weight assisted gait training by strengthening the muscles in his legs and stimulating them. He had been told that in a little over a week he would be starting with the parallel bars, one physical therapists at each site helping to move his legs. Greg was equally afraid of it as he was looking forward. That was a major step forward in his recovery.

He turned himself back towards his visitor who was sitting next to him. “So, your telling me that you finally found McNish?”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes, took me a while but I was finally able to find his hiding place.”

“And is he...? Did you? I mean I would've heard if he had been arrested. So what did you do to him?” Greg still remembered what Sherlock had done to Magnussen after he had threaten John and Mary.

“God, Lestrade. I did not kill him.”

Greg breathed a sigh of relieve.

“I let Mycroft take care of him.” Sherlock couldn't suppress a slight chuckle when he saw the shock on the DI's face. “Just kidding Detective Inspector. Well at least partly, Mycroft placed McNish in a secret government facility and he will remain there until you say that you are ready to face him in court. “

“You'll give me a heart attack one day Sherlock.” Greg was relieved that not only McNish was off the streets but that he was alive and will be facing justice.

“Guess I'm not ready yet. Don't want to be in a wheelchair during the trial. I want to show him that he couldn't bring me down.”

“But it's not...,” Sherlock began but was instantly interrupted by Greg.

“Don't!” He looked sharply at Sherlock. “I do know that. Just give me some time.”

Sherlock gave him an encouraging smile. “Of course. Call me whenever you are ready.”

“Will do. Anything new in Baker Street?”

“No, don't you read John's blog anymore? You'll find any information you might find interesting there.”

“Jeez, Sherlock, I was just trying to keep up the conversation. Showing some interest in how you are doing.”

“Oh! I'm bored. John is still spending most of his time with Mary and Dimmock won't give me any cases.”

“Yeah, I heard that you keep harassing him and that he ordered to not let you into the Yard as long as he's there.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “I did not harass him. I merely asked him a couple of times if he needed some help with some of his cases. He let me in on two than kicked me out, telling me to never bother him again. I never thought I would says this again to you when you are not unconscious but I miss you, Lestrade. You're the best of the lot.”

Hearing that from Sherlock meant a lot to Greg. Even though Sherlock doesn't show it he cared about the people around him. He cleared his throat, “you might be stuck with Dimmock for a while, I'm afraid, but I'm working hard on returning. And you know what? I'm planning to give the Yard a visit in a couple of weeks, see how everything's going without me and clear some stuff with personnel. If you promise to tread Dimmock better than you treated me I may put in a good word for you.”

“I always treated you...” the look on Greg's face muted Sherlock.

“Do you want new cases or not?”

“Yes,” Sherlock grumbled.

“Good, I'm gonna talk to Dimmock.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The day of his first parallel bar training had finally arrived.

Greg grabbed the bars, making his knuckles turning white. Both of his legs were in braces that gave them support. With the help of his therapists he slowly pulled himself out of his wheelchair. His legs were shaking and wobbling and he heavily leaned forward afraid of loosing the balance. Two hands grabbed his waist and slowly pulled him in an more upright position while two other therapists carefully repositioned his legs.

“You're Ok?” Dan asked from behind.

Greg nodded. “All good. Feels strange, though. Bit afraid that I'll fall.”

“Don't be. We've got you and your wheelchair is right here in case you wanna sit down again. Ready?”

Greg nodded again.

“Alright, Mike and Brodie will help you raising your legs a little bit if needed and I want you to move your right hip forward and then repeat that with your left hip.”

Doing as he was told he pushed his hip forward, distantly feeling his right leg dragging along. His arms began to shake under the strain and he had to pause for a minute before he was able to slightly lift up his left leg and move his hip. Greg stopped and shook his head. “It's too hard. It's not working.”

“Come on Greg, keep pushing.”

“I can't!”

“Bollocks! I know you can. Your doing great! You just have to believe in your abilities. What is it that Thomas the tank engine always says? Yes you can, yes you can.”

Greg groaned and tried an other step. His arms were hurting and needed to be moved forward but he was afraid of loosening his grip, fearing to fall over.

“You won't fall. Just slowly move your arms forward.”

Feeling Dan's grip around his waist tightening Greg risked to release his grip. He slightly swayed backwards and instinctively put his hands on the bars behind him.

“I said hands forward not backwards.”

“I was falling!”

“No you weren't. There is no way you could fall the way I'm supporting you. Now try again.”

Greg took his right hand off the bar and slowly moved it to a position further up.

“Great, slow and steady. Now the left one. See? Wasn't that bad, was it?”

Greg huffed.

“And now I want to see your hips moving again. You work them just like Shakira.”

Greg chuckled slightly and repeated the exercise. He wasn't even nearly halfway through the parallel bars when Dan pointed out that he had gotten an audience. Looking up he saw Molly walking towards him. “Hey, sorry I'm a bit late.”

A strained smile crossed Lestrade's face. “'S Ok,” he replied taking another careful step with the help of Mike and Brodie.

 

“Wow, Greg! You're walking!” She exclaimed excitedly upon seeing Greg moving between the parallel bars.

“Not really, 'm only moving my hips and even that takes an ridiculous amount of strength.”

“But you are moving forward, aren't you?” Dan intervened .

“'S'pose,yes.” Greg admitted reluctantly, crooking his head.

“So it's walking. And now shut up and continue your way towards that young lady over there.” Dan winked at Molly. “Maybe, if you're lucky, she'll reward your efforts with a kiss.” “Or should I be the one to collect it an then pass it on to you?”

“Bastard,” Greg replied through gritted teeth slowly making his way towards Molly

 

It was hard for Molly to watch Greg struggle. His face was distorted with pain and exertion, sweat running down his head and chest. She could see the muscles working in his arms, which were shaking from the strain of carrying his bodyweight. A couple of times it looked like he was about to fall over but Dan always held him steady. After what seemed like an eternity he finally reached the end of the bars. Breathing heavily a proud smile formed on his lips.

“That was amazing,” Molly smiled leaning forward to give Greg his well earned kiss.

Dan carefully lowered Greg back into his wheelchair and began to remove the braces. “Good work, man. How are you feeling?”

“Thanks, feels like I've run a bloody marathon.” Greg ran his hands over his face wiping away the sweat.

“Well you kinda did. It takes an incredible amount of strength and will power to start walking again after an incomplete spinal cord injury. Not many actually make it all the way down the parallel bars on their first try.”

Greg wiped his hands on his shirt, noticing that it was nearly completely wet. ”Do you say that to all of your patients,” he laughed.

“Maybe,” Dan replied laughing as well. He stood up and nudged Greg on his shoulder. “No seriously. What you achieved today was amazing. If you keep up that pace you'll soon be shuffling around with a walker. You're a real fighter, Greg and I bet my arse that I'll make you walk on you own two feet at the end of your stay with us.”

“If I do I definitely own you guys more than a pint.” Greg looked up to Molly. “My arms are killing me. If you could...,” he stopped and licked his lips uncomfortably. “If you could push me?”

“Yes of course!” Greg had never really asked her for help so Molly instantly knew that he had no stamina left at all. She grabbed the handles of his wheelchair and pushed him towards the door.

“Up to your room then?” Molly asked.

“Yeah, am in a desperate need for a shower.”

“Most definitely.”

After Molly had moved him into his bathroom Greg began to undress himself. He was completely done and if Molly hadn't been here he would've ditched the shower and crashed in his bed not thinking about moving until it was time for dinner. He took his shirt and trousers off and put them over the sink. He slowly moved his wheelchair towards the shower and transferred himself onto the stool that was standing in it.

He shampooed his hair and body, wincing slightly at the touch on his still sensitive wounds.

Greg was about to transfer himself back in his chair when his wet hand suddenly slipped on the transfer board causing him to lose his balance. With a thud he fell to the the floor.

“Shit,” he breathed. “Shit, shit shit.” Greg reached behind him trying to pull himself off the floor and into his wheelchair but he didn't had the strength. His arms were still weak from that PT session and there was no way that he was able to support his bodyweight long enough so that he could push himself up.

“You're Ok in there?” Molly asked concern showing in her voice.

“Um..actually no.” He heard her walking towards the bathroom door.

Molly knocked. “Do you need any help?”

Greg took in his situation. He was lying on the floor of his bathroom. Wet and completely helpless. “Uh, guess I do.”

Molly carefully opened the door and stepped into the room. “Oh god. Greg! What happened? You're hurt?”  
“'m fine. I slipped and then...,” his voice trailed of. He turned himself away from Molly. “God, this is embarrassing. Lying naked on the floor. I'm pathetic.”

Molly took the towel and handed it to Greg who thankfully took it, drying himself off.

“You're not pathetic, Greg. None of this makes you pathetic. Remember how much progress you've made. How great you did in that last session.”

“Doesn't help me now, does it?” Greg said reaching for the boxer-shorts which were dangling on the site of the sink.

Molly shook her head. It took one little accident to destroy all the positive thinking and mood. One little slip to threaten Greg to be pulled into a depression again.

“No, not now of course. But soon. And right now I'm here to help you so let's get you off that floor before you catch a cold.”

Greg gave in and allowed Molly to lift him up. It took her a couple of tries but finally she was able to place him back in his wheelchair.

“Thanks,” Greg said, barely audible. He looked down at his toes, embarrassed to his guts, not daring to look Molly in the face. She knelt down in front of him, putting her hands on his knees.

“Don't let that shit pull you down. It happened and it probably will happen again. That's nothing to be ashamed of.”

Greg shrugged his shoulders, his gaze still fixed on his feet.

“Look at me, Greg.” Molly waited until Greg finally raised his head. “We're in this together, remember? I'll help you whenever you need it.

“I know,” Greg said. “Can you give me a minute alone, please?”

“Of course.” Molly got up and made herself comfortable on Greg's bed. She picked up the book he was currently reading from his night shelf. Another thriller. She chuckled slightly, even on sick leave Greg couldn't do without some murders. She had made it through the first couple of pages when Greg finally exited the bathroom. Without saying a word Greg quickly changed into a tracksuit and then transferred himself onto his bed. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall onto the pillow. Greg felt Molly moving beside him, then her fingers running through his damp hair.

“All good?”

Greg gave a slight nod. “Completely exhausted, though.”

“Do you want your book back?”

“Nah, 'm good. Probably be dozing off soon anyway.”

“Then I should better get up, so that you can get some rest. It's probably not really comfortable with me occupying half your bed.” Molly looked over to Greg who still had his eyes closed. She smiled at him.

“No, stay. Please.” Greg had opened his eyes and was shuffling around until his read rested comfortably on Molly's shoulder. His right arm now on her stomach. “Tell me about your week.”

It didn't took long until the only reply Molly got from Greg was his soft snoring.


	13. Chapter 13

Greg was as nervous as he had been on his first day at work many years ago when he walked through the entrance of New Scotland Yard. He had entered this building countless times, casually strolling past the security. He held his ID card ready and was about to go through the turnstiles when he noticed that he wouldn't fit through with his wheelchair. He sighed and made his way over to the security officer asking him to let him through at the side.

It felt strange being here. It all looked somehow different from is current perspective. He had made the trip to talk about returning to work as soon as he was out of inpatient rehab. But now he wasn't quite sure if he really wanted to. The people looked. Some actually stared. They knew about that one DI of theirs who got shot and was now struggling to recover. Things like these spread like wildfire around the Yard. The positive site is that he had gotten loads of get well soon cards, not only from his team but what seemed like the whole Yard. The negative site was that people always began talking. “Will he return?” “ I heard that..” He didn't know what they were talking about him but he had seen it more than once when an officer had been seriously injured.

 

The elevator finally reached his floor and Greg quickly exited making his way towards his team. He had a little time left until his meeting. He hadn't told anyone that he was coming over, so he hoped that at least some people where in and not somewhere at a crime scene. He had just rounded the corner when he heard an surprised “What the hell are you doing here, Boss?”

“Happy to see you too, Sally, “ Greg replied grinning.

“It's great to see you! I hope you're not here to sneak some files out.” Sally eyed him suspiciously.

Greg started to laugh.“ No. I've got an appointment with personnel and the Chief Superintendent, see if I can return to work when I'm out of rehab.”

“That would be great, we really miss you around here, Greg. But how...I mean it would only be a desk job right?” She eyed his wheelchair uncomfortably. “ Not only of course. Sorry. Having you back is what counts.”

“Yep, desk job...I will be sitting at my desk all day watching you work.” Greg laughed but it was a bitter laugh. How much would he give to be able to go with his teams to the crime scenes and more importantly to make the arrests. “It will most likely take an other year until, if at all, I can walk properly, let alone run. So until then your are alone with Sherlock at the crime scenes.” Sally's shocked face mad him laugh.

“I'm not so sure you coming back would be a good idea at all then,” she said jokingly. “We haven't seen the freak since Dimmock is in charge.”

“Yeah, need to talk about that with Dimmock. Sherlock asked me to put in a good word. He seemed rather bored now that he doesn't get any cases from me.”

“And we don't want a bored psychopath, I think you've got a point there Greg.”

“Sociopath, Sally. Sherlock's an high-functioning Sociopath.” Greg corrected her smiling.

Sally rolled her eyes. “So when's your meeting?”

“ In 15 minutes, “ Greg said checking his watch. “Going to give the rest of the team a quick hello and then I'm off.”

 

When Greg and Sally made their way back towards the elevators they passed Greg's old office.

“Looks exactly like I left it, “ Greg noticed. “Well minus all the files scattered on the desk. Who's office is it now?“

“No one's, we left your office as it was. The Chief Superintendent tried to put a new DI in but no one really wanted that. Giving your office and position to someone new would've been so final, so definite. Like if you would never come back. That's why Dimmock offered to take over. He's doing your usual replacement only a bit longer this time. Because he still has his own team we do most of his work here.”

Greg couldn't hide a proud smile. He had an amazing team. After Sherlock's fall he hadn't been sure if he could continue to work with Sally but he knew that he made the right choice. She and the rest of the team had been at the hospital as often as they could. Even when he had been too weak to interact and barely recognized them they sat with him for hours telling him what's new at the yard and later, when he had been feeling better, they sneaked in some stuff and food the hospital hadn't allowed him to have.

“You guys are amazing, really. The best team one could wish for. ”

 

The meeting went better than he had expected. They were keeping his position open until he was fit to return. He could work for a couple of days a week after he got discharged from rehab and passed the psychological evaluation and switch to a full time desk job as soon as his doctors cleared him for that. And as soon as he was able to take and pass the fitness test he would be back to active duty. The Chief Superintendent had made it pretty clear that during the first months of him back he was nowhere allowed near a crime scene. “It's a desk job and paperwork only at the beginning, Lestrade. I want you to start it slowly. You will be assisting Dimmock with the cases he took over. No own cases until you are cleared to work full time.”

As much as Greg hated to admit it, he knew the Chief Superintendent was right. It made no sense to let him work own cases when he was only in a couple of days a week. That would only mean more workload for his team and they had already done so much for him. He nodded slowly, “Yeah, got that. And do I get it right that as soon as I'm back on full time and working my own cases I'm allowed back at the crime scenes?”

The Chief Superintendent nodded in agreement . “Yes, why not. If the crime scene is accessible I can't see any reason why you shouldn't be allowed there.“

Greg let out a breath he hadn't noticed he had been holding. That was great. That meant that even if, and that big if was always in his mind, he wouldn't be able to return to full active duty he would at least be doing a job which was nearly the same as before he got injured. Minus a bit of excitement, though but that was fine with him as long as he was able to continue to work as a Detective Inspector. “Thank you, Sir. “ Greg held out his hand. “I'll hand in all the papers as soon as I got my release date.”

The Chief Superintendent got up and shook it. “We are really looking forward to having you back, Lestrade. It was a real shock to all of us hearing that you got shot. But there is one think and that is of real importance, when you're back with us I want no more consulting by that Holmes. Is that clear? We managed quite good without him in the past months and I want it to stay that way. Do you understand?”

Lestrade's heart ran cold. Not again. “Sir, with all due respect but I think not allowing Sherl...Mr. Holmes to consult again is a mistake. This man is a genius and his name was cleared after all those false accusations back then. He's doing the Yard a great favour and... ” he got harshly interrupted by the Chief Superintendent.

“Do you want your job back, Lestrade?”

Greg tilted his head. “Wha'? Yes of course but I...”

“Then I don't want to discuss that topic any further with you. I can't him having back consulting with you. He's a civilian and has no clearance what so ever. We can't have him running about, sticking his nose in all sorts of sensible information. He and that Watson guy.”

“But Sir, it was alright before,” he hesitated a second not sure if he should really keep pressing, “ before I got shot.”

The Chief Superintendent began to rub his temples. “Yes, but now it's a different situation, Lestrade.”

Greg could feel his blood starting to boil. He knew what this was all about. The Chief Superintendent just didn't want any press about a disabled Detective Inspector who couldn't solve any cases without the help of a sleuth. He really was tempted to push that topic further but decided to go a different way. A way he loathed and he hated to pull that card but he didn't see any other way to get Sherlock back to consulting without risking to loose his job. “I understand, Sir.” He wheeled towards the door but before he opened it he turned around, looking straight at the Chief Inspector. “I just want you to know that Sherlock Holmes had saved my life. He had worked that case with me and if he hadn't deduced that something was really wrong I would've been dead. Bled to death or drowned in my own blood, whatever would had come first, on some killer's carpet. He and John Watson saved me. Sally would've never made it in time. Neither the ambulance. So please understand that I owe a lot to these two men and therefore would be very grateful if I can continue to work with them whenever necessary.” He turned around and opened the door, wheeling himself towards Sally and most of his team who were standing at a water cooler suddenly trying to look incredibly busy.

“Did you all came up to console me or is there actually something wrong with all the water coolers on our floor?” He had to hide a big smile when he looked at them.

“So they didn't...?” one began.

Greg shook his head. “No, they wouldn't let me...” he was interrupted by a sudden outburst from an other member of his team. “Hear me out, “ Greg continued calmly. “They wouldn't let me extend my sick leave after I get discharged from rehab. Said I have to get my lazy ass back here asap to get some order back into you lot.” Now he was smiling broadly.

“You Bastard,” someone nudged him hart on his shoulder. “I genuinely thought for a moment that you wouldn't come back.”

Greg let out a hearty laugh. “No I'll definitely be back. Still may take a while but it's all cleared with the bosses.”

 

 

Half an hour later Greg sat in front of the little café right next to New Scotland Yard waiting for Molly to arrive. He had taken a leave from the facility over the weekend so he had promised Molly to take her out for dinner later that evening and to spend the weekend together.

He had got himself a coffee to go from the counter and was now reading a newspaper he had found lying on one of the tables.

Greg was about to take an other sip of his coffee when two arms where wrapped around his shoulders and a soft kiss was placed on his cheek. He slightly turned his head to return the kiss. “Hi,” he said with a soft voice.

“Hey, how did it went?” Molly asked rounding Greg to sit down on the opposite chair her hands thereby gently stroking over his shoulders and back.

He folded the newspaper and placed it on the table “It went very well. They said I can return part time as soon as I'm in the outpatient program and full time as soon as I'm cleared for it.” A huge smile crossed his face.

Molly's heart melted seeing Greg so happy. She leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the mouth, holding his head between her hands. “I'm so happy for you. Were definitely celebrating that tonight.”

“Thanks. But I must confess that I was a little bit late with booking a table at the restaurant we talked about and they are now fully booked. I know you really wanted to go there. I'm terrible sorry.“ Greg looked at her with these puppy dog eyes he always used when he tried to avoid getting yelled at. “Is there anywhere else you would like to go?”

Molly's mood dropped significantly. She had really looked forward to go to that particular restaurant. It was a small, romantic pop up restaurant which was praised by every restaurant-critic in London. She had told Greg about it and he offered her to book a table and invite her for dinner after his meeting.

“When did you call to book a table?”

Greg scratched the back of his head and looked down, avoiding her gaze. “Well... I don't know. I'm sorry.”

“When did you call? “ she repeated slowly, emphasizing every word.

Looking up he quietly admitted that he had completely forgotten to book a table and when he had called two days ago they were predictably fully booked.

Molly looked at him disappointed. “I was really looking forward to eat there with you.”

“I know and I'm sorry,“ he fished his mobile out of his pocket and placed it on the table. “Look, just tell me where else you would like to go and I call there, booking us a table, Ok?”

“Well, there is this Japanese Restaurant I walked past a couple of weeks ago. Looked quite good but my friends aren't really into Japanese cuisine. “

Greg wasn't either but he owed that one to Molly after fucking up the reservation. “Do you remember it's name or address? Then I'll quickly google it's phone number?” He found the number after a quick search only to be disappointed by an recorded message, telling him that all their tables were fully booked. He looked over to Molly, biting his lower lip. “I'm sorry honey, I'm afraid they are booked out as well. ” Greg reached over to take her hand but Molly withdrew it quickly. “We could try a different restaurant, you know?”

“Yes, we could. One of the few ones which maybe aren't booked out”

Sighing he leaned back and took a sip from his coffee. Sometimes she was really overreacting, he thought to himself. As if every fucking restaurant in London would be fully booked.

“Maybe we should just go to McDonald’s then. They always have tables.” he snapped back.

“No reason to get all sassy, Greg. It's not my fault that you forgot to book that table.” She let out a deep breath, noticing that the people around them were already looking. “I just had a really stressful day at work today and was really looking forward to have a nice dinner with you without any disturbances. Maybe we both should just calm down a bit, get home and then decide where we're going to eat tonight.”

“Sounds like a good idea. Where should we go? Come to think of it, I've never been to your flat so I would vote for yours.”

“Yeah about that. I would love to show you my flat. Thing is though that it's on the third floor without any elevator. So I'm afraid that must wait a little longer.” She looked at him apologetic.

“Not your fault, just another reason to keep pushing,” he smiled at her, “my place it is then. But we have to walk to Westminster Underground Station, I'm afraid. Can't use St. James's with this one.” Greg patted against the right side of his wheelchair.

“No problem.

 

They didn't talked much during the ride. Molly still angry at Greg while Greg was getting more and more irritated of the crowded tube, the big clash inevitably waiting to happen.

They silently walked from the station to Greg's flat. He pushed the door open and went straight through to his living room. “So, what now?”

Greg had his mobile out, looking for restaurants Molly could like. He offered her a couple only to get a shoulder shrug as an answer.

“What do you want then, Molly?” he asked, trying to remain calm. “I can order us something or get us some take-away.”

“Yeah, could do that.” Molly answered in a tone which made pretty clear that Greg shouldn't even consider doing that. “ You know what. I think I'm not even that hungry anymore.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Molly. Come on, we'll find something nice.” Even through he got more and more frustrated at this whole situation and her attitude he tried his best to bring it to a good end. “There must be some restaurant I can get you happy with?”

“You know I really wanted to try that particular pop up restaurant.”

“We'll try a different time.” Greg offered.

“There won't be. Do you even know what pop up restaurants are?”

If he was honest he hadn't even heard about such things before Molly had told him about that one in Whitechapel but he was not going to admit that.

“No, the old man doesn't know about these hip things” he snapped back.

Molly let out a sigh. “You know what annoys me the most, Greg? I asked you to do that one thing. I actually was busy the last weeks. I told you how much it would mean to me if we could go there together but you completely forgot about it.”

At that point Greg couldn't control himself any further. Frustrated he threw his mobile through the room onto the couch.

“You're right. You were the only one who was,” he made air quotes, “ _busy_ the last few weeks while I was sitting on my lazy ass all day, twiddling my thumbs,” he shouted and angrily made his way through the living room. He needed some air, needed to get away before he would say something he would regret later. He reached the balcony door and yanked it open, hitting his legs in that progress. He didn't care. He was too frustrated at the moment. Finally outside he took a deep breath. He loved her but sometimes she was driving him sheer crazy.

The ashtray on that small site table caught his eye. God he could kill for a cigarette right now. He knew he shouldn't pick up smoking again with his lungs but wondered if there maybe was a forgotten pack of cigarettes somewhere in his flat.

He had a pack in the suit he had worn when he had gotten shot. The Cigarettes had been thrown away of course, the suite most likely rotting somewhere in an evidence room waiting to maybe be brought out at the trial. He had really loved that suit. That and the coat he had worn. Greg wondered why he had never thought about the fact that he won't be getting them back before and made a mental note that he had to buy a new coat before he returned to work.

He was absorbed in his thoughts when he suddenly noticed that Molly was standing next to him.

“Greg, I'm sorry. I overreacted.”

He smiled at her. “Apology accepted. I think we both are a bit thin-skinned at the moment. Did you make up your mind?”

“You know, maybe your idea of ordering something isn't so bad after all. I think with that we are on the save side.”

 

After they finished dinner Greg and Molly cuddled on the sofa and watched a movie. “You know,” Greg started ”I'm really happy that I can return to work and I can't wait to start again, but,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “the thing is that they don't want me to let Sherlock in on any cases. I tried my best to convince them but they threatened that I wouldn't get my job back when I don't comply. Molly, I don't know what to do. I maybe could manage that as long as I'm working part time. No own cases, only assisting. But what should I do when I'm back on full time? I just can't leave Sherlock out. He's bored. He needs the cases from the Yard. I need him. Molly, he saved my life. How can I betray him for that? Maybe I should've walked out.”

Molly gently stroke his cheeks. “You didn't betray him. Getting your job back is the first priority. Otherwise he would've have no one at the Yard. Now you will be there to fight for him to consult again. We'll find a way. Remember who his brother is. Mycroft is basically the British government. I bet he can push some buttons and everything will be like before.”

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

Molly woke up before Greg the next morning. She opened her eyes and took in the sight that greeted her. Greg was lying on his back, his chest only partially obscured by the blanked. As she watched it rise and fall she noticed that his chest and arm muscles had gotten a little bit more defined since the last time she had seen him like that. He must've been training them, probably to manage that gait training he was doing now. Only his stomach still had that little paunch she loved at him. What she didn't love so much right now was his snoring. She was used to that little soft snoring Greg often did but right now it was loud and annoying. She looked over to the alarm clock on Greg's side and groaned. 6.30, no time to be awake on a work free Saturday morning. She gently pushed Greg to get him to roll onto his side only to get an annoyed groan as an answer. She pushed again, this time a little bit harder until he partially opened his eyes and looked at her. “Wha'?”

“You're snoring.”

“'m not.” Greg replied, moving himself so that he was now lying on his side, his back turned towards her. He muttered something obscure and was fast asleep again a few seconds later.

Molly shook her head an snuggled herself against Greg's back, laying one arm across his chest.

 

Greg was woken by some soft breathing against his neck. He smiled and gently moved himself to a more upright position. He looked over to the clock. 10.15. he could get up or he could just lie here and watch Molly. He settled for the latter. He was unbelievably happy that he had found her. Happy that she had agreed to go out with him and that she's staying with him even though he is an idiot from time to time. He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Good morning, “ he smiled when Molly opened her eyes and stretched her arms and legs. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did until early this morning. Then you started snoring unbelievably loud.”

“I would never snore,” he shook his head.

“Oh, yes you did. And with such a noise that I was afraid the neighbours would ring and ask to stop sawing wood in the middle of the night. The only thing that helped was gently guiding you to roll onto your side.”

Greg let out a hearty laugh and gave her another kiss. “I didn't hear anything.”

“Yeah, that's because _you_ were fast asleep at that time.” Molly said laughing, jokingly poking him in the ribs. Greg's upper body twitched sideways to escape the poking and he tried to catch her hand to stop her but Molly was quicker. She quickly rolled over so that she was now sitting over Greg, pinning his hands down on the mattress. “I guess you owe me an apology then,” she said leaning over so that her lips where hovering over Greg's. When he raised his head slightly to kiss her she quickly moved back so that his lips where hitting the air. With a quick movement he had freed his hands and wrapped them around Molly's waist, slowly pulling her towards him. “So how can I make up for that completely false accusation then?”

“Well what about a nice back rub before making me breakfast?” A cheeky smile formed on her face.

“Turn around, then.”

Molly turned around and moved her hair over her shoulder so that it was now resting on her chest.

“Don't get used to it. Next time I want to be on the receiving end.” Greg said while he gently began massaging Molly's back.

She couldn't hide a pleasured moan. “God, you are incredibly good at this.”

Greg could distantly feel her hands sliding down his boxer shorts. His penis began to get hard. “I thought it was about pleasuring you?” he breathed, leaning forward to kiss Molly on the neck.

“Yes, but then I saw him waking up and thought about giving him a quick hello,” she whispered turning around, slowly pulling his short down. While she massaged his penis she kissed him on the lips and then made her way down his his chest. His breathing got heavier. Molly had nearly reached the middle of his stomach when his penis got limb again. Molly stopped and moved back up, laying her head on his shoulder, her finger stroking over his chest.

Greg turned his head towards her: “Sorry, told you it won't be for long”

“Don't be. Nothing to be sorry about.”

“God, I love you Molly Hooper. I love you for taking me how I am. The old, scarred man who can't get a proper hard-on.”

“I love you too, Greg. I would never swap you for anyone else.”

Greg lay his arm around her and pulled her closer. They lay like this for a while until Greg's stomach began to rumble. “I think it's time for breakfast” he said and moved himself towards the edge of the bed. After he had transferred himself into his wheelchair he moved over to his wardrobe and pulled out a jeans and a button down shirt. “I'm afraid right now I can only offer some cereals I keep for the boys but I know a restaurant nearby which offers a mean brunch menu.”

“Probably booked out,” Molly taunted.

Greg spun around. “HA! One would think so. But believe it or not I called in advanced and booked us a table.”

Molly would have preferred to stay in. Having a nice relaxed breakfast at Greg's flat, just them but she knew how important it is for his rehabilitation to go out in public as often as possible. It was a good sign that he encourages it on his own. It showed that he, to some degree, had accepted his current situation and was not ashamed of it. She was proud of him for that. “Sounds good to me. So when's the table booked?”

“In about half an hour. Got a bit carried away, I'm afraid,” a cheeky smile formed on his lips. “ So I guess we better get ready and slowly walk over.”

 

Upon arrival Greg noticed a small step in front of the restaurant. “Damn, I forgot they have that curb. If you could hold the door open for me while I manage it? I need a good deal of speed and am a bit afraid to crash into it.”

“Sure!” Molly stepped forward and held the door open. As soon as they were inside a waiter came towards them. “How can I help you?” he asked looking at Molly who was standing behind Greg.

Greg cleared his throat. “Hi, I've booked a table for two. Under the name Lestrade.”

“Ah, yes I see. Please follow me.”

It was a bit of a hassle to get to their table as the restaurant was quite narrow and packet and Greg had to politely ask a lot of people if they could make room for him to past. Molly could see the unease on his face.

When they had finally arrived at their table and the waiter had cleared the extra chair Greg led out a deep breath. “God, I never really noticed how cramped this place actually is. You don't really pay attention to stuff like that when you're able-bodied.” He send her a smile. “Let's order, I'm starving.”

 

“So, what do you want to do today?” Greg asked after they both had finished their plates.

“Don't know. Weather is quite nice, maybe go to a park, lie down and relax in the sun?”

Greg scratched his head uncomfortably “Um, bit off a hassle getting in and out of the chair I'm afraid. And I would feel rather stupid just sitting next to you.”

“God, I'm so sorry. Sometimes I clearly don't think before I talk. Of course. Um, yeah. What else? Maybe just go home and relax there? Or we could just have a nice stroll.”

Greg felt bad for being the reason that Molly couldn't do what she wanted to do. “You know what we could do? We could go and buy a deckchair. That'll make it easier for me.“

“Sounds like a plan.” Molly smiled.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Greg had spend the Sunday afternoon with his friends, watching the football match of the team he normally also played at. It was great seeing his team mates again. Cheering with them and now enjoying the traditional Pint after the game.

Greg rolled his eyes when his mobile rang. “I bet you a fiver that's it's Molly reminding me about the dinner tonight with her parents. You forget once to make a reservation and are then treated like you suffer from dementia.”

“And to just have one Pint. You know how women are.” Peter, his best mate added laughing.

Greg gestured him to be silent. “Hey Molly,”

“Hi. How was the game?”

“Good. We won” Greg answered.

“Because Greg didn't play this time.” Peter shouted from the background.

“Shut up! I play so much better than you, Peter.” Greg laughed. “Sorry Molly, got distracted by some idiot who thinks he can play better football than me. Ow, now he's resorting to violence.”

“I just wanted to remind you that I'm going to pick you up in 2 hours. You still at the pub?”

“Yeah, nearly finished though. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten. I'll be ready.”

“Good, see you then.”

“See ya.” Greg ended the call. “Right guys. I'm going to finish the beer and then I'm off.”

 

When Molly and Greg arrived at the house of Mr. and Mrs. Hooper later that evening Greg was fairly nervous and hoped that it wasn't too obvious. A look over to Molly told him that it was. She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “You'll be fine,” she said with an assuring smile.

Greg nodded but wasn't really sure about that. It has been ages since he had to present himself to parents of a girlfriend and he would've preferred to actually not be in a wheelchair for that. But there he was now and Molly had looked so happy when she had told him that her parents had asked to meet him. So he said yes.

The Hoopers lived in a nice town house and he noticed that they had put a ramp over the steps to the entrance. Greg smiled inwardly, at least one embarrassing moment less. But he also wondered how much Molly had told her parents about his injuries.

Molly rang the bell and a few minutes later Mr. Hooper opened the door.

“Hi,” he greeted Molly with a huge hug and then turned to Greg. he held out a hand, “ Hello, nice to finally meet you Mr. Lestrade. “

Greg shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Please Come in, “ he waved pass him.

Molly walked in first and Greg followed her slowly. The house had a huge corridor which let to an even bigger dining room.

Molly's mother walked out of the kitchen “Ah, Mr. Lestrade. So nice to meet you. Molly's always talking so much about you.”

Molly rolled her eyes and Greg couldn't suppress a chuckle. Parents always had the tendency to be embarrassing in front of a date, no matter how old you are. He made his way over to Mrs. Hooper and shook her hand. “Nice, to meet you Mrs. Hooper.”

“It's a pleasure to finally have a face to all that stories. Dinner is nearly ready. Please sit.. have a seat.” She gestured towards the dinning table.

“Are you allowed to drink alcohol, Mr. Lestrade?” Molly's father asked

“For god's sake, Dad. Why shouldn't he?” Molly replied annoyed.

“I don't know. Maybe because of some medication he takes. Or maybe it's not save to combine alcohol and..” he nodded towards Greg's wheelchair, “ ...you know?”

“Neil!” Mrs. Hopper scolded her her husband.

“No it's fine. As long as I'm not drink-driving. But I must admit I don't even know if there is a legal limit concerning alcohol and wheelchairs, which is a bit embarrassing considering the fact that I'm a Police Officer _and_ in a wheelchair. ” Greg joked trying to rescue the situation.

Molly's mother let out a hearty laugh. “I like your attitude.”

 

After they had finished dinner Mr. Hooper and Greg settled over to the living room while Molly helped her mother clearing the table.

Mr. Hooper poured Greg a glass of whisky. “So Molly said you work for the Met?”

“Yes, I'm a Detective Inspector at Scotland Yard. I work at the Homicide and Serious Crime Division and am leading one of the Murder Investigation Teams there.”

“And you're working there right now? I mean do they...”

“No not right now. I'm still on sick leave at the moment. But I'll soon be returning to work.”

“That's good. I mean a man has got to work doesn't he? Nothing worse than sitting around all day doing nothing.”

From the corner of his eyes Greg saw how in the dining room Molly put her head into her hands out of sheer frustration.

“Well, yeah. Sometime you don't have a choice, do you?” he answered politely and took a sip from his whiskey. “Hmm, that's a really good one. I like it when they have that hint of the sea in them.”

“Thank you. It's one of my favourites.”

 

Molly returned from the kitchen. “Mum asked if you could lend her a hand.”

After her Dad had left the living room Molly put her arms over Greg's shoulders and gave him a kiss on his temple. “You're alright?”

“Yes, all fine. Hadn't been on this site of the typical interrogation for a long time. Normally it's me who asks the questions to the girls my eldest had been bringing home.” he let out a laugh. “God I think the last time I was on this end was when I met the parents of my ex-wife some 20 years ago.“

Molly chuckled. “You're doing great, Greg. My mother loves you. And I'm certain that my dad likes you too. Just ignore the stupid questions he tends to ask.”

“I guess my son tells his girlfriends exactly the same things about me.” Greg laughed.

“You've got a son, Mr. Lestrade?” Molly's father, who had returned with his wife from the kitchen, asked.

Greg turned around “Yes, two in fact.” “From my first marriage.” he added.

“Oh that's lovely. How old are they?” Mrs. Hooper asked, trying to ignore the disapproving face of her husband.

“14 and 17.”

“Oh that's quite a difficult age, then.”

Greg laughed. “It is indeed. On the plus side they're living with their mother in Scotland so when they come to visit they only show their best side. Well mostly that is.”

“James and Oliver are great, they had that great idea of a surprise birthday party for Greg a couple of month ago.”

“Yes and I'm still mad at you three for keeping me in the dark for so long,” Greg laughed.

 

They talked about different topics when Greg noticed that it was time to use the toilet. He leaned over to Molly asking for the way and then excused himself.

He was on his way back when heard Molly's father saying: “Yes, but will he be able to support you? What if you want to start a family? He's a lot older than you and can he even have kids let alone raise them with his disability?”

“Peter, these things are of no concern to us,” Molly's mother said, sounding rather embarrassed.

“Yes, Dad. That's none of your business. His injuries are most likely not even permanent and even if - I love him the way he is and I don't care what you or other small-minded people think. Our relationship is not different to any other relationship.“

“I'm not small-minded. I'm just concerned. ”

“Well I really like him, Molly. And I think you two are perfect for each other.” Greg heard Molly's mother say.

“But what if..“ Molly's father started again only to be interrupted by Greg who rounded the corner trying to look as if he had heard nothing of that previous conversation even though he hurt deep inside. Suddenly there was an uncomfortable silence, everybody probably wondering how much he had heard. Greg leaned over, took his glass and send a small smile around before taking a sip.

“That's a lovely house you have, “ Greg said to break the silence. And with a huge grin he added “And some nice pictures of young Molly.”

“They are great aren't they?” Molly's mother agreed.

“No! They are embarrassing.”

Greg placed his glass on the table. “No you look really nice in them. That 80s and 90s look really suited you.” He quickly had to move back to avoid getting hit by Molly. “Oi! What was that for?”

“You do know that one day we will be at your parents. And then...oh no I forgot. When you were young cameras weren't even invented, ” she joked.

Greg grabbed his heart. “Ouch, now that hurt.”

“Deal with it. You're old enough,” Molly teased. “And now come back to the table, I'm not going to hit you, I promise.”

Carefully Greg moved back but positioned himself a bit further away from Molly. “Just to be on the save side,” he laughed

Molly's father leaned over to him and whispered: “She got that from her mother who got it from hers. If I were you I would run as fast as I could. For me it's too late, but you still have the chance to escape the Jefferson temper.”

“I heard that, Neil!”

“See?”

Greg laughed. “I'm afraid it's to late for me as well. She completely got me under her thumb.” That earned him an evil look from Molly.

“Do you want another whisky?” Molly's father asked.

“Thanks, I would love to but I shouldn't. Even though I'm off the heavy stuff I'm still taking painkillers. Think I've had enough for tonight.” He looked over to Molly who send him a proud smile.

“Fair enough.” Mr. Hooper said pouring himself another drink.

 

An hour later they sat in a cab back to Greg's flat. They rode in silence for quite a while until Molly leaned forward and put her hands on Greg's left knee. “Listen, I don't know how much you had heard but when you came back from the toilet I could see on your face that something had hurt you. I'm so so sorry. You know my father really likes you. He sometimes just doesn't recognize that some things he says are offensive.”

“It's Ok Molly. He only worries about you. And he does have a point with the age difference. I mean it won't be long until I'm an old pensioner who's sitting at the window all day, complaining over everything and everybody that moves past.”

“Oh god, so you heard what he said about us having no future. I'm...I don't know what to say.” She looked down, not daring to look Greg into the eyes.

“Molly, it's alright. It did hurt, yes. But you know what? Your father won't be the last person to ask such things as long as I'm in that chair. I will most likely have to deal with even worse stuff as soon as I'm out of rehab and move around the real world more frequently. Let alone when I start working again. But do you know what had helped me in that moment? Your answer. That you love me and that you really want to spend the future with me together, no matter what.” He watched Molly who was still not looking at him. He leaned forward as much as he could and gently moved her chin up. “ Don't beat yourself up about that. I enjoyed the evening non the less. I liked your parents. Your mother is great and your father has a lot in common with mine. “ He smiled at her.

“You're right.” She ran her hand through her hair. “Oh and I'm still mad at both of you for bonding against me and my mother.” Molly added laughing.

Greg raised his hands in defence. “I didn't bond against your mother, only against you.” That answer earned him a soft bump against his left chin. “Ow, that was the leg with feeling in it.” he whined playfully.

“I know, the other one would have been pointless, wouldn't it?”

“You're a mean, mean woman, Molly Hooper.”


	14. Chapter 14

Greg's knuckles were white from the force with which he was grabbing the rails. He was standing between two parallel bars trying to move his legs forward, preferably without falling over. His physiotherapist was standing behind him, promising to catch him should he stagger. He had done this kind of gait training endless time before in the last few weeks but this time, unlike all the other times, he was neither hold at his waist nor were there two additional physiotherapists who were helping him moving and positioning his legs. He was completely on his own this time. Only Dan standing behind him and his two sons sitting at the end of the parallel bars.  
“Come on Dad, I know you can do it!” Oliver shouted.  
“Just put one foot in front of the other” James joined in.  
Greg rolled his eyes. Of all days were they had to reduce the support it must of course be the one where is sons had arrived to visit him for 3 days. He looked at his sons and smiled. “You know, not that long ago I said the same things to each of you when you were learning to walk.”  
“See, and now we're just giving back.”  
Greg chuckled. “Well, as long as Oliver doesn't push me over as he did with you, James, when you started walking.” His voice already sounding strained. “Right, let's go then.” he slowly pushed his hip forward concentrating hard to bend his knee and raise his left leg. He let it fall down ungracefully and dragged his right leg forward until it was next to his left leg.  
“What did I told you about dragging, Greg?” Dan scolded. “Raise your feet!”  
“I fu...” Greg looked up, “I can't. I just can't raise that bloody leg high enough. I can't even feel it properly.” He started to get frustrated again but pulled himself together. He didn't want to have an emotional outbreak in front of his sons.  
“Bullshit. We trained that. I saw you doing it,” Dan said with a stern voice.” I know that you can do it and I want you to do it.“  
Greg groaned. Dan was right, during his PT sessions he was able to slightly move his right leg when he was lying down. But that didn't mean that he could do it standing upright between two parallel bars.

James and Oliver looked away, feeling rather uncomfortable at the moment. They had never seen their father getting a dressing down, except by their mother when both still had been married and were fighting over the littlest things. And seeing their father struggle to walk didn't make it any easier.  
“Groaning doesn't help, Greg. You need to push yourself if you want to walk. Just remember - this is not a race. Just slowly try to raise your leg and move it forward. Even if it's just a couple of millimetres.”  
“Yeah I know. But couldn't we do it with help again? Just this time?” He turned around to see Dan shaking his head. “But I won't be able to raise my foot all the way.”  
“That's just fine. As long as I see you bending your knee and try to raise your leg it's all good.”  
Greg closed his eyes and readied himself for the next step.  
“I can help you if you want, Dad.” Oliver offered.  
Greg looked up, “Nah, Dan's right. I've gotta do it on my own. But thanks for the offer.”  
He took a deep breath and gathered all his strength to make a step forward.  
A few minutes later he was unable to hide a proud smile when he actually made a couple of steps without having to stop.  
  
“That was awesome, Dad.” Oliver said while they were walking back to Greg's room. “I knew that you could do it.”  
Greg looked up to his son. “Thank you. Was a hard piece of work, though.”  
“Yeah, but you totally rocked it. Even your therapist was impressed.”  
“He's very good with taking the carrot-and-a-stick approach, “ Greg laughed. He looked over to James who was walking silently at his side. He hadn't talked much the whole day since Greg had picked him and his brother up from the train station.

When they reached his room Oliver went straight inside. Before James could follow his older brother Greg put his hand on his arm and pulled him aside.  
“You're Ok, James?” Greg asked, concern showing on his face. After getting a not really convincing nod as an answer Greg studied his youngest more thoroughly. “Really?” he asked again trying to look James into the eyes but he kept avoiding Greg. “If there's something bothering you, just tell me. Don't be afraid.”  
“It's nothing, really.”  
Greg looked at him with a face he normally used when he was interrogating suspect and they were trying to sell him for stupid.  
His youngest sighed. “It's just,” he took a deep breath and looked away from his father. “It's seeing you like this. Not being the strong dad that I used to know. I mean you're still strong but it's different than before. Seeing you struggle to walk. All these other disabled people in that room. It's all rather intimidating for me. Oliver and Mum said that I shouldn't worry. That you'll be fine and that you'll still be the same person like before. I know that but...“ his voice began to shake, tears falling from his eyes. He wrapped his arms around his father and sobbed into his father's shoulder. “ I...I, I don't want you to have to go through all of this alone. I want to be there for you every day. And now that I'm finally here I'm scared and crying like a fucking baby.”  
Greg gently rubbed the back of his youngest. He could see Oliver looking over to them and signalled to his oldest that he would need another 5 minutes.

Oliver nodded. He understood. James had been very distressed since their dad had gotten shot and really needed some time with him alone to come to terms with all of that. James had always struggled dealing with the situation when their father had suffered a work related injury. And these had mostly only been minor cuts and bruises, so this had thrown James off the tracks completely. He hoped that he would get the chance to talk to his father as well, he really needed it. Being the strong one for his brother was starting to take its toll on him.

 “Let me tell you something,” Greg said running his hand through the hair of his youngest son, “and you are the only person to know about this, Ok? I was scared as hell when I arrived here. So it's perfectly Ok for you to be intimidated by all of this. God, I was so intimidated and scared the first days that I would've preferred to go back to the hospital if I'd been given the choice. What helped was to talk to people who were in the same situation as me. So please ask if there are any questions and talk to me if anything bothers you. If you have problems watching me during one of my upcoming therapy session it's perfectly fine when you leave. You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I won't be offended. You do know that you are always there for me, do you?” Greg felt James shaking his head. “You are. The messages and phone calls mean a lot to me. With them you are with me every day even when you are not physically there. And I also got Molly and my friends who help me a lot and even Sherlock drops by every now and then. “  
James lifted his head and leaned back. He wiped away the tears. “Yeah, maybe. But it sucks being stuck in Scotland while you are here.” He sniffed. “It is horrible not being able to see you whenever I wanted since we moved there but now that you got injured it is even worse.”  
“I understand that James and I really miss seeing you guys as well. But we talked about it when your Mum and me got divorced. Because of my job it was the best for you to live with her. I didn't know that she planed to move to Scotland, but that's how it is right now, I'm afraid. I would love to see you guys more often and I'm pretty sure we'll find a way when I'm out of rehab. Did I tell you that the Yard is taking me back part time until I'm fully recovered? So I'll have a lot of free-time to visit you in Scotland.”  
James face lit up. “They are definitely taking you back Dad? That's fucking great.” He stood up and turned towards the open door. “Did you hear that Oliver? Dad's getting his old job back as soon as he can leave here.”  
“No fucking way?” Oliver shouted back and moved through the room towards his younger brother and father. “ Is that true, Dad?”  
Greg laughed, “language guys. Yep, they told me I can start by helping out other DIs with their cases and then return to my old position when everything is cleared.”  
Oliver nudged James on his shoulder. “See, I told you he'll stay a copper.”

The rest of the evening they sat in Greg's room, making plans about Greg's visit to Scotland. Oliver's upcoming Birthday would just be perfect and that he of course must bring Molly.

The next morning they met in the breakfast room. Greg was already there, eating his toast when his sons arrived.  
“Ah, finally risen from the dead?”  
Oliver groaned and rubbed his temples. “It's 9.30am. Way to early for a Saturday morning.”  
Greg laughed. “Yeah well maybe you shouldn't have sneaked out at night to meet with that young nurse.” He leaned over to Mark. “Had to call me at 2am because he couldn't get back into the building and his younger brother had his phone on silent.”  
“Daaaad!” Oliver boxed his brother who was laughing uncontrollably. “Shut up you idiot.”  
“He was lucky that out of old habit I leave my phone on all the time. Had to call the night nurse to get him back inside. “  
Oliver put his head in his hands. “Stop telling this to everybody, this is so embarrassing.”  
“Believe it or not, it was embarrassing to me as well, having to call a nurse in the middle of the night and then having to tell her that I actually don't have an emergency but that my teenage son is standing outside not able to get back in. You're lucky that she has kids as well and saw the funny site of it. I could've easily been kicked out for that.”  
Mark laughed. “Just imagine Mrs. Armand would've been the night duty nurse. She would have kicked you out right away.”  
“Yeah, I guess she never had anything that could closely resemble a love live, except handling male patients.” Greg watched his eldest son shaking his head, muttering something.  
Philip looked over to Oliver sympathetically . “Dads are always embarrassing, I can tell you that. And the worst thing is, they'll never stop. No matter how old you are. But I bet you that your Dad is not as bad as mine. I'm Philip by the way.”  
Oliver shook the hand Philip had held out. “Hi, I'm Oliver.” He grabbed a chair and placed it next to Philip. “You have no idea how embarrassing he can be.”  
“Oi! Heard that!”  
“Well it's true,” James aided his bigger brother. “Remember when you had made Oliver and his friends return all the beers they had bought at a local a couple of years ago? In front of the girls they had invited? Not to speak of all the embarrassing jokes you tend to tell in front of our friends.”  
“Thank you very much, Brutus. May I introduce to you, my two sons James and Oliver who clearly love me dearly.” James and Oliver rolled their eyes while the men laughed and went to get themselves some breakfast.  
“So which of the nurses did you chat up?” Philip asked after they had returned.  
“That young one with the blond hair. Ella 's her name.”  
“Oh yes, she's really hot. If I were single I would totally go for it."  
“Wasn't she your nurse,Greg?” Mark asked.  
“Still is, through she doesn't have much work with me anymore since I....”  
He was interrupted by Oliver: “Dad, please stop. Whatever it is I don't want to know, Ok?”  
After breakfast they went over to collect the wheelchairs Greg had secured for the boys last week.  
“All right now, let's see if you are as good as you say you are. “ He pushed his wheelchair until he was a couple of feet away and quickly spun it around.  
“Show off, “ James said while he was struggling to move his wheelchair as fast as his father.  
“Not as easy as it looks, is it?” He moved back to his sons. “Try to grab the rim as far back as possible and then give it a good push. For quick turning just move one wheel forward and the other backwards.”

After a while both James and Oliver got the hang of it and they made their way outside to the basketball court. Much to Greg's embarrassment they were still better than him in throwing baskets so they actually were winning most of the games.  
  
The next days during their stay they spend most of the time talking. They mostly went into town, which was something Oliver preferred as he wasn't allowed to smoke on the premises. Greg wasn't all too happy that his son was smoking under aged but he remembered how he had been during that age. So they made a deal. Oliver was allowed to smoke during his visit as long as he would give Greg a cigarette every now and then without telling Molly, his ex-wife or anyone else who might be interested in the fact that he had picked up smoking again. Molly would kill him if she found out. She was always in his ears, that this was just perfect for him to stop smoking and now that he was smoke free for such a long time he surely wouldn't start again. He just hoped that Sherlock would keep his mouth shut.

On the last day of their visit Greg had a long talk with his eldest son. He thanked him that he was there for his little brother when Greg couldn't but he also told him that he needed to make sure that he keeps looking after himself. That it shouldn't be his job to replace the father. “What about your mother? Or Sam?” He unintentionally spit out the name, still hurt by the fact that this was the man with whom she cheated on him for over a year before he finally divorced her.  
“We can talk to Mum and she really tries her best but she's busy a lot with her new work and stuff and well Sam,” Oliver looked at his father and shrugged his shoulders, “He's not you. I don't really want to talk to him and so does James. When you and Mum had still been married you had always been there for us. You had often been away working on cases but when you were at home we always could talk to you and you did stuff with us, no matter how tired you had been, you know? You went to football matches with us or came to watch me play basketball even though you were nearly falling asleep during some matches.”  
Greg let out a laugh. “And all the years I had hoped that you hadn't noticed.”  
“Of course I did. And I was pissed off back then but now I'm grateful that at least you came, that you cared. With Simon it's different. He comes homes and wants to be left alone. He doesn't really know what to do with us, how to have a proper talk with us.”  
Greg nodded and he couldn't really believe that he was actually going to say the next words. “Give him a chance. He doesn't had any children before so this is a complete new situation for him. He needs time, just like you do. But I'll call your mother and talk to her if we can find a way to see each other more regularly.”  
“Thanks Dad."

 

* * *

 

The day of Greg's discharge from rehab had finally arrived. He wasn't really able to walk out of the clinic as he would've hoped but Dan offered him to get one of these special walkers he had been training on and then help him to make the couple of steps towards the car.

Molly had already stored Greg's stuff in the car and let out a yelp of surprise when she saw Greg slowly walking out of the building. His face was distorted by exertion and he didn't make it more than a couple of feet out of the door until he had to signal the man who was helping him that he needed to sit down again. While the man got back inside, Molly quickly snapped a picture. “See, I told you that you would be walking out of here. I'm so happy for you.”  
Greg looked at her and a strained smile crossed his face. “Yeah, I promised it to the guys.” He carefully sat down in his wheelchair again and turned around towards Dan. “Thank you for everything. You really did a great job. Sorry that I sometimes had been a bit moody.”  
“No worries. It was a pleasure working with you. Keep me up to date on your progress, will ya?”  
“Of course.”  
  
Molly helped Greg into the car and slowly drove of the driveway. Greg looked out of the window and watched the landscape go past. It felt strange leaving this secure place for not just a couple of days but for ever. He was happy that he was finally out of rehab but somehow afraid how he would manage at home on a daily basis, not only for a couple of days.  
“You Ok?” Molly asked snapping him out of his thoughts. He noticed that she had put a hand on his leg. He felt her fingers gently messaging his thigh. It still felt like his leg has gone dead but he could feel it. “Huh? Yeah, I'm fine.” He smiled at her and put his hand onto Molly's locking his fingers into hers.  
  
When they arrived at Greg's flat Molly helped him to get his stuff inside. “Do you want me to stay or do you want some time for yourself?” she asked.  
“No no, please stay. We haven't really seen each other for weeks.”

They snuggled on the couch watching some telly and enjoyed the company of each other.  
“Can I ask you something, Greg?” Molly stroke her fingers over Greg's temple. “You don't have to answer if you don't want to.”  
Greg pushed himself up a bit. “Just ask.”  
“The scar on your right temple. I don't know why it matters to me but I wondered about it since I saw the wound back in hospital. Do you remember how it happened?“  
“Bastard hit me over the head with something. First on the back and then on the side. Hoped to bash my head in I think but luckily I developed a pretty thick skull over the years.” He knocked against his head laughing. “Something you inevitably get when you're running around with Sherlock, arresting criminals without any proper backup. You see the little dent over my left eyebrow?” Molly nodded and Greg took her hand and led it to the left side of his head right above his ear. “You feel that?” He asked, leading her fingers towards the temple.  
Molly nodded, feeling an about 5cm long scar under the hair. “Good god. What happened there?”  
“Iron rod. Rounded a corner and the suspect swung at me. Gave me a couple of broken ribs, a broken arm and these two beauties. Kept hitting me while I lay on the ground writhing in pain. I passed out and he escaped. Not for long though. Sherlock kindly told us where to find him and my team arrested him a couple of hours later.“  
“Bloody hell,”  
Greg laughed. “That's exactly what my ex-wife said as well when she saw me in A&E. It actually was quite bloody. Half my face looked pretty horrible for a while.”  
“I can imagine.” Molly propped herself up and gave him a kiss on the lips. “Promise me to be more careful in the future Ok?”  
“I'll try my best.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “Already had my fair share.” He chuckled slightly. “You know what the worse thing about this story had been?”  
Molly moved her head so that it was now resting on Greg's chest. “Worse than being beaten to a pulp? I can hardly think of anything that could be remotely worse.”  
“Turned out the suspect was the son of a Minister so the press had been on our heels. And of course they had been following us on that day. Don't need to mention that I wasn't particularly happy about the fact that they were filming and taking pictures of me getting treated and then wheeled out of an alley after getting beaten up by a youth. My face was blurred but still, it had been all over the news. Wasn't easy for the family. The boys had been quite young back then.”  
“That had been you? Gosh, I remember that story. The whole investigation had been quite a scandal back then.”  
“Yep, all me. Press had never been my friend.”

 

* * *

 

“Ouch,” Greg swore when he felt the knife cut into his finger. “Molly? Can you get me a band aid out of the bathroom? Top drawer!” He leaned forward and put the finger into his mouth to slow down the bleeding.

Suddenly it felt as if he was back in Greydon's living room. The taste of his blood filling his mouth. Greydon standing over him, the gun pointed on his head. It felt like he was drowning in his own blood all over again and he began to panic. With the feeling that his breaths weren't delivering him enough oxygen, Greg began to hyperventilate. His eyes moved back and forth and he was suddenly pretty certain that he was going to die.  
Suddenly he could hear Molly's voice. “Greg, Gregory, everything is fine. You're safe! Look around, you're in your kitchen. It's just a flashback.” Molly repeated this several times until after 5 Minutes his senses slowly returned back to reality. The walls of Greydon's living room were replaced by the walls of his kitchen and he noticed Molly kneeling in front of him.  
“Is it Ok, if I touch you?” Molly asked carefully.  
Greg nodded and felt a soft touch pulling his left hand with the still bleeding index finger from his mouth.  
“Just take slow and deep breaths, Ok?” Molly said with a soothing voice while she was putting a band aid on the wound.  
Greg did as he was told and started to calm down. He was still shaking but wasn't panicking anymore.  
“My therapist told me that this might happen, “ he started after he had finally calmed down. He took a sip from the water Molly had brought him. “I thought I jumped the wagon on PTSD flashbacks because they never occurred before. Guess I was wrong.” He smiled at Molly. “Took one little cut to bring me down.”  
“You can't predict what will trigger it.”  
“It was the taste of blood in my mouth I guess. It felt like...” he stopped and made a wiping movement with his hand. “Never mind, don't want to burden you with it. Let's continue making dinner.”  
Molly put her hands on Greg's knees. “No Greg, it's perfectly fine. If you want to talk about what happened I'm always there to listen.“  
“I thought I was back in that living room, dying. It seemed so real. You know back then I genuinely thought that I was going to die that day.” Greg said quietly. His eyes filling with tears. “I couldn't breath. My blood was everywhere. It was scary. I could taste it in my mouth, felt it on my chest and under my back. Felt like I was drowning. Somewhere deep down I prayed that the gun aimed at my head would finally take me out of my misery. There was pain everywhere and I had reached a point where I just wanted to die. And then there were John and Sherlock. They assured me that everything was going to be fine but I could see on their faces that it wouldn't. They were fighting for my life while I had accepted that I'll die.” His voice broke and he was unable to talk any further.  
Molly pulled Greg into a comforting hug. “But you didn't. You're alive. Something, most likely your bloody stubbornness, made you pull through. And I am very grateful for that.”  
After a while Greg chuckled slightly. “Yeah, for once it actually saved my life.” He moved back to the table where he was cutting the potatoes. “Right, back to work.”

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Molly asked while they were eating dinner.  
Greg swallowed a piece of meat. “You can't imagine. It's like first day at work all over again. On one hand I'm excited as hell to be able to go back but I'm equally frightened on how I will manage and how I will be received.”  
“You'll manage fine. Remember it's only paperwork at the beginning. “  
“Yeah, boring. I fear I'll go crazy after a couple of weeks, watching my team rush to crime scenes and do arrests while I'm stuck at my desk.”  
“Well I think we had enough excitement for a life time this year. I must admit that I'm actually happy knowing that you are save at the Yard and not chasing around the streets of London.”  
“I will return to active duty eventually. I'm not made to only sit behind a desk. “  
“I know, but please don't rush it, Greg. I don't want to see you hurt again.”  
Greg looked Molly in the eyes. “I'll try my best that you won't.” He smiled at her, knowing that he couldn't promise her that but he didn't want her to have to go through all of this again. And neither wanted he.

He woke up early the next morning. Molly was still asleep so he quietly got out of bed and into the bathroom. After he had showered and dressed he made himself a cup of coffee. He looked at the watch in the kitchen. He still had some time until he had to leave or he would be at the Yard way to early even though he most likely would have to wait a couple of tubes until he would fine one with enough space during rush hour to squeeze in. He checked the news on his phone and then made his way back into the bedroom. He kissed Molly on the forehead. “I'm leaving for work.” She cracked one eye open. “Have fun.”

He made his way towards the tube station. The cold wind biting at his hands. “Need to buy me some gloves.” he thought to himself. He took a deep breath before entering the station. He had hated the rush hour crowds already before he got injured and now it was even worse. He always had the feeling that he was pissing off people, taking up way to much space or not moving fast enough out of the train or through the tunnels. Greg moved his chin up and made his way into the Underground Station and onto the platform. As predicted the trains were crowded as hell and Greg had to let a couple of them go past until he found one where he could squeeze in. It was impossible to move his wheelchair even a couple of inches inside the crowd so when people wanted to get on or off the train the had to squeeze past him. Luckily it only were 4 stops until he finally was able to get off, carefully manoeuvring his wheelchair backwards out of the train because there was no space to turn it around.

When he arrived at the Yard his fingers felt like they were frozen. His heart pumped in his chest. He was fairly nervous now. He made his way up to his old floor and frowned when he found the booths of his team all empty. “On a crime scene then” he thought to himself and made his way towards his office. Greg had to admit that he was slightly disappointed. He had hoped that his first day back wouldn't start with him being alone in his office figuring out what to do. He opened the door and jumped. His whole office was crowded with people. A banner was hanging over the windows reading “WELCOME BACK”  
  
“So happy to finally have you back, Boss.” Donovan said and gave him an awkward hug.  
Greg looked around noticing the cakes on his desk. “It feels good to be back, but guys you really shouldn't have.” He nodded over to his desk.  
Sally laughed. “Yeah, it got a bit out of hand. But at least we won't go hungry today.”  
Greg clapped his hands together “Right guys, let's get the cakes over to the conference room, grab some plates and coffee and then fill me in about any recent cases and stuff that had happened while I was away.”

A couple of hours later Greg sat in his office doing the paperwork and research for a recent case when his phone beeped. A message popped up on his screen. “Good to have you back, Detective Inspector. Will come over for cases when needed or bored. SH” Greg smiled. Of course he would call Sherlock whenever he is stuck on a case and of course he would roll his eyes but secretly be happy whenever Sherlock storms into his office unannounced demanding a new case to solve.  
“Thanks. Will let you know when needed. GL” he texted back.

 

* * *

 

The next couple of weeks went like a blur. Working was really taking a toll on his body. Back at rehab he had been able to lie down every now and then but that wasn't possible at work. That constant sitting and moving around the office plus the PT sessions throughout the week were really eating his stamina. His shoulders were killing him from all that pushing and his chest, stomach and back hurt more than usual at the end of the day. Greg jokingly had asked Sally if she thinks the bosses would allow him a couch in his office.

His pain medication had been further reduced since he was out of rehab which meant that the pain was only dulled but never quite vanished. That made him quite grumpy form time to time and more than often Molly had been on the receiving end.

She had practically moved in after he was discharged, helping him with day to day chores. His flat wasn't really made to live in with a wheelchair. Greg couldn't reach the top cupboards in his kitchen nor the top shelves at his wardrobe. He had tried to move all the stuff there to the lower ones but that had ended in total chaos. So begrudgingly he had accepted Molly's offer to move in. It had been either that or making his flat wheelchair suitable, which was something he refused vehemently. For him it would be a defeat. And as long as his gait training showed at least some progress he kept fighting.

He was thankful for Molly's help. He really was. But sometimes he just needed to be alone. He still was struggling with depressive episodes. He was able to control them with medication most of the time but from time to time he just had to let out his frustration and indulge in self-pity. And he preferred to be alone when that happens to stop him from hurting the people he loved.  
It happened mostly when he had PT right after work and was hurting all over. After the progress he had made at rehab he had the feeling that he was not advancing at his out patient therapy. He still was stuck at the parallel bars with a few session walking with a walker in between, not really able to move his right leg, not able to make more than one or two steps at once without having to stop and catch his breath. His therapists had assured him that everything was fine. That he was making progress, it just had slowed down a bit but that this was nothing to worry about.

One day was particularly bad. He had come home after a frustrating day at work and PT. His whole team had been out to question people related to a case and shortly after they had come back they had been called out again to conduct a search warrant related to a different case. A search warrant he had signed. His mood dropped significantly with every hour he was alone in the office. The PT session he had afterwards didn't really help either. He had expected to do gait training as usual but his therapist insisted on doing movement training on his legs. It felt like he was making steps back not forwards.  
The tube back home was crowded as usual during rush hour, which made him even more irritated. “Fuck off,” he snapped at a man who had complained after Greg had accidentally hit him while positioning himself inside the tube.  
He was glad when he finally reached home. “Hey, how was your day?” Molly greeted him with a kiss.  
“Shit, as usual. I was fucking bored to death at work and PT didn't do anything good.” Greg made his way into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He moved onto the couch and let out an relieved breath after he felt the cool liquid running down his throat.  
“You know that it'll get better. Soon you'll be back at your old job. And then you'll complain to me how stressful it is.” Molly said trying to cheer him up.  
Greg looked over to her and took a sip from the bottle. He shrugged his shoulders. “As if you would know.”  
“Well first of all I do know that your days aren't usually shit and secondly I know that work can be frustrating. Don't tell me that in the last years your job had always been great and that you loved every single day of it.“  
“It's different.”  
“Of course it's different. What did you expect? That you return to work and everything will be the same? That they let you do arrests?”  
Again Greg shrugged his shoulders. “ It's just all taking so long.”  
“You're out of Rehab for nearly 4 weeks now. You're doing great. You've got to give yourself time.”  
“Shut up Molly. I can't hear that phrase anymore. Everyone is saying 'you're doing great, Greg.' 'give your body the time and it'll come, Greg' 'Not long and you'll be back on your feet, Greg.' . Fuck that talk. I can't hear it anymore. It's been nearly a year. Over five month of physiotherapy and what did that do? I'm still sitting in that fucking wheelchair.“  
Molly angrily got up form her armchair. “You know what Greg, I'm not having that discussion over and over with you. You know my point of view. You know that I do have a medical degree and therefore some knowledge on this matter. You know that your doctors say the same. It takes time to relearn walking. You've already achieved great results. “   
Greg let out a snort.   
“You did. Accept that, god dammit.” She inhaled deeply. “I need some fresh air. I'm going to meet some friends. I'll probably be back later this evening. I hope your mood has improved by then. Call your mates, go out for a pint. Do what ever helps to lighten up your mood.”

Greg watched Molly leave, not sure what to do now. He lay on his couch and stared at the ceiling. Going out probably was a good idea. His friends would at least understand him. He called Thomas and Peter, his best mates and an hour later they met in a pub in Whitechapel.

Thomas just came back with their second round when he pointed at a table on the other side of the pub. “Isn't that Molly?”  
Greg look over and saw Molly with her friends. He turned back to Thomas and Peter and nodded. “Yeah, didn't know she's here though.”  
“Let's invite them over.”  
“Nah, not a good idea right now. Anyway, you were saying?”  
Peter frowned. “You two had a fight, hadn't you?”  
Greg ran his hands over his face and massaged his temples. “Let's not talk about it. We fight pretty often lately.“  
Thomas and Peter looked at each other. “What are you two fighting about?” Peter asked.  
“Dunno, small stuff. She moved in to help me, which is great. That's not the point. But sometimes she just doesn't understand.”  
“Doesn't understand what?” Thomas asked.  
“That I don't need her 'all will be good' talk. Her doing everything for me. You know, sometimes when I get frustrated by something, I let out my mood on her because she's always so positive. She's always trying to lighten up my mood and sometimes it just drives me mad.”  
Thomas nodded. “I can understand that. But what else should she do? Leave? Then you would probably be mad at her for not listening to you.”  
Greg looked down into his Pint : “She did today. And I was angry that she did, yes. But I don't know what else she should do. Most of the times it helps, and I feel better afterwards. But when we fight I wait for her to try to cheer me up and then really celebrate my bad mood, telling her I don't need that talk. That she has no idea and stuff like this,” he admitted.  
“Molly is a fine lady. She doesn't deserve to be the punching bag of your emotions. It's hard for both of you and both of you have to find a way to deal with this without hurting the other. If you want to be alone she has to accept that but you also have to accept that what she does is only to make you feel better. Don't use that against her.”  
“Peter's right, Greg. Go and apologize to her.”

He looked over to Molly again. It looked like she was discussing something with her friends. Gesturing widely and putting her head in her hands. She looked pretty frustrated. He watched as one of her friends patted her back while the other two got up, probably to get drinks.  
He groaned and let his head fall down onto the table. After a while he looked back up, propping his chin onto his forearms. Both Peter and Thomas looked at him, their faces clearly saying “go talk to her you idiot.”  
Greg sighted. “Yeah, maybe you're right.” he took another sip and made his way through the pub.

He noticed one of Molly's friends seemingly recognizing him and saying something to Molly. He could only make out the word “arsehole.” She turned around and looked at him quizzically. “What are you doing here?”  
“Hi, I'm here with some mates,” he gestured over to the table were Peter and Thomas were desperately trying not to look as if they were watching him. “I, well to be honest Thomas, noticed you sitting here so I decided to come over and say hello.” He let out an uncomfortable laugh. “What a coincident, innit? So many pubs and still here we are.” He noticed the piercing looks of Molly's friends. Greg uncomfortably ran his hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head. “Um, maybe we can have a quick word in private?”  
Molly looked at his deep brown eyes. “Yes, of course.” She turned towards her friends, “I'll be right back. Let's go outside, Greg.”

They just had turned away from the table when Greg heard one of the woman say “ You know I really try to hate him but dear god, he's even hotter than on the pictures Molly had shown us, isn't he?”   
Greg felt himself getting red. He looked up to her to see if she was overhearing the conversation as well. She either wasn't or was very good in pretending. He wanted to get out as soon as possible but of course right now their path was blocked by an old couple who were putting on their jackets.   
“Doesn't look like he's nearly 50.” another friend giggled. “Pity he's...you know” the third friend added. “Who cares? He's hot.” the first one said and the second one affirmed: “Yes, Theresa. That doesn't make any difference. And besides, do you remember what Molly had told us?”  
He wondered what Molly had told them about him. It was getting a bit too embarrassing for Greg's liking and when their path was finally clear he quickly made his way out of the door, holding it open for Molly. She went past him and leaned herself against a low window ledge crossing her arms over her chest.  
“I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I behaved like an idiot and you don't deserve to be treated like that.”  
Molly looked at him not showing any emotion. “You know you just can't keep apologizing and then not change anything.”  
Greg licked his lips. “I know. We need to lay out rules on how to deal with these situations in the future. I'm sorry for the last weeks. I wasn't fair to you. I know that. That's why we need to talk.”  
“But not here!”  
“Of course not here. Sometimes...” Greg shook his head, “never mind. Tomorrow or on Sunday. When ever's the best time.”  
Molly looked at Greg sternly. It took a while until she answered. “Yes, that's probably a good idea. Can we go back inside? I'm freezing.”  
Greg moved closer and rubbed Molly's arms. “Let's go inside. Do you want to come over to us? Thomas and Peter would be very happy, though I suspect that they only want to chat up your friends.”  
“I thought they were both married?”  
“They are. Though Peter's about to divorce his wife. But you didn't hear that from me.”  
Molly laughed. “I will treat that information as highly confidential and will only hand it over to my single friend on our next trip to the bathroom.”

They went back inside the Pub, Greg to his mates and Molly to her friends.  
“And?” Thomas asked .  
“All good. “ Greg took a huge sip from his beer.  
“Yeah, but are they coming over?” Peter asked.  
“You're not even fully divorced and already back on the hunt.” Thomas laughed.  
“So what, only because it took Greg ages to find a new girl it doesn't mean that it must be the same for me.”  
“Shut up, Peter.”  
“Are we interrupting?” Greg heard Molly say behind him.  
He turned around. “No not at all. Have a seat.”

Molly moved a chair next to Greg. “Greg, these are Carina, Zinat and Teresa.”  
Greg held out a hand. “Hi, nice to meet you. Thomas and Peter. “ he pointed at his friends. “Just ignore them when they get annoying, that's what I always do.” The women laughed.  
“You're a bloody idiot, Lestrade.” Peter said, mocking their Chief Superintendent. They both stated laughing.  
“Sorry, a little inside joke from the Yard,” Peter explained. “That's what our boss always says whenever Greg is about to gets his ass kicked.”  
“Which, I must clarify, isn't often, don't want you to get a wrong impression of me.” Greg send one of his famous charming smiles in the direction of the women.  
“Yeah, we've already got an impression of you, don't we?” Teresa said looking at him disapprovingly.  
Greg could see Molly shooting her a look. “Great,” he thought. “She definitely doesn't like me. That's gonna be fun.”  
“Finally we've got to meet you,” Carina said. “Molly never stopped talking about you.”  
Greg laughed slightly. “ I do hope there were at least some positive things among it?”  
“Molly said you were a copper?” Zinat asked.  
“Still am,” Greg corrected her. He noticed her playing with her drink uncomfortably and send her a cheery smile. He knew he had to use all of his charm to change the view Molly's friend had of him.  
“We all are” Peter said. “Me, Greggy and Thomas over there.”  
“Really? You still work for the Police?” Theresa asked.  
Greg narrowed his eyes. “Why shouldn't I?”  
“Don't know. Maybe because of your...”  
“So you all three working together then?” Zinat interrupted trying to rescue the situation.  
Greg gave Theresa a long look then turned towards the conversation.  
“Unfortunately not. Greg and me work at the Yard, same division but lead different teams. And Thomas is still on the beat.”  
“Oh shit, now we've got to behave. Better not to tell any stories from university.” Carina laughed.  
Greg inwardly rolled his eyes. He hated that response. As if the fun in your life stops as soon as your become a law enforcement officer.  
Molly laughed. “Believe me, the stories Greg had told me when these guys were out for a pint are nothing against our university days.”  
“You know what they do with snitches, Greg,” Thomas said, trying to look at Greg with a serious face. “And especially to the ones who rat out fellow cops.”  
Greg laughed. “Yeah right, I'm shaking already.“

He finished his Pint and pushed himself away from the table. “Anyone else want another drink? My turn to buy. “  
Molly, Zinat and Carina as well as Thomas took up his offer. Teresa, who had also finished her drink denied, claiming she would buy her own drink later on.  
“Very well then,” Greg said and made his way towards the bar.  
“I'll help him carry.“ Peter got up, hurrying after Greg.  
“Excuse my French but what a bitch,” he said after he had caught up. “What's her problem with you?”  
Greg shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know. It's either what Molly had told her about our fights or it's general dislike. I genuinely have no clue.”  
“Well the other two seem to like you so I guess it's the latter.”  
“Can't have everybody to like you, can you?” Greg forced a smile and turned towards the barkeeper to order the drinks.  
Thomas looked at his friend. Greg tried to look as if it doesn't bother him at all but Thomas knew him long enough to be able to look through this façade. Greg started to get insecure again. He had noticed the little tell tale signs which only were visible to those who knew Greg very well.  
“No you can't.” He handed the tray from the bar to Greg who put it on his lap and then took the remaining two glasses. Thomas then put them down again. “You know what Greg?”  
Greg looked up at him quizzically. “I know the last time didn't end very well but I think this situation calls for shots, doesn't it?”  
“Dear God, I'd thought you'd never ask. I need to get seriously drunk or I'll kill that woman at one point.”  
“Right, lets have one round here and buy another one for the table.” Thomas ordered the vodkas and they quickly downed their first round.  
Carefully balancing the tray Greg wheeled back to their table. He noticed Theresa staring at him but tried to ignore it. Still he prayed that he would be spared the embarrassment of spilling any of the drinks. After 2 pints and one vodka shot he had to concentrate more than usual but he managed. He placed the tray on the table and handed everyone except Theresa a shot. He ignored her huff and leaned over to Molly giving her a kiss. “I promise you I'll handle it better this time.” A cheeky smile crossed his face.  
“I won't visit you in hospital if you don't.” Molly joked and reached for her glass. “Cheers.”  
The others raised their glasses. “Cheers!”

 

* * *

 

When Molly woke up the next morning she turned around and looked at Greg who was already awake but looked rather miserable. “Morning,” he croaked.  
Molly smiled at him. “Morning. Bit of a hangover?”  
He nodded and squinted when the pain in his head got worse which caused Molly to chuckle slightly.  
Greg groaned. “That's not funny. It's a mystery to me why you don't have one.”  
“It's because I'm still young, Greg.”  
Greg jokingly poked Molly in the arm. “You're maybe younger but I wouldn't call you young.” He turned onto his back and instantly regretted that movement as it sent the room spinning.  
Molly stood up and walked around the bed. “Shut up silver fox.” She laughed seeing Greg's face instantly turning red and bent down to give him a kiss but withdrew quickly. “Eww, you smell like a Pub.”  
“Sorry, I'll brush my teeth as soon as I'm able to get up.”  
“No need to rush. I'm going to occupy the bath first anyway.” She was nearly out the door when she heard a pitiful “Molly?” She turned around.  
“Could you make a detour to the kitchen and check if we have any coke in the fridge? And some Aspirin somewhere?”  
Molly jokingly rolled her eyes. “I'll be right back.” She went into the kitchen and searched around the fridge .” No Coke,” she shouted.  
“Anything else with some taste in it?”  
She could literally see Greg's disappointed face in front of her. “Only some Orange or Mango juice, I'm afraid.”  
There was a long pause, Greg most likely considering which was the lesser evil.  
“I'll take the orange juice then.” “And don't forget the aspirin, thank you.” he added.

A couple of minutes later Molly was back with the desired drink and a glass of water for the aspirin. “Here you go. But don't get used to it.”  
“You're an angel, Molly.” Greg said, pushing himself up to a seating position. He took a careful sip of the orange juice before emptying the aspirin bag into the water glass.  
  
When Greg hadn't gotten up over an hour after Molly had settled herself on the couch she went back to the bedroom. What she saw made her chuckle. Greg was fast asleep again, sprawled across the whole bed. One arm over his head, the other spread to the side. With his mouth open he let out a soft snore from time to time.  
Molly leaned against the door frame and watched him sleep. She watched his chest rise and fall. His breathing was nearly back to normal. The episodes where he woke up at night having trouble breathing were almost gone. He was still out of breath faster than usual and often had to cough after exercising or heavy laughing but that was normal after these sorts of injuries. He was still in some pain from time to time but she hoped that this would get better with time. The wounds had healed nicely and she was pretty certain that the scars would too. His chest hair was returning.  
Her eyes wandered up to his face. That silver-brown stubble he wore since a couple of days. At first she had hated that prickling feeling and had complained to him but now she had to admit that this look really suited him. And those eyes, now closed but she could get lost in those dark brown eyes. They were her kryptonite. That and his boyish smile. She felt a tingling sensation in her stomach. God she loved that man. If he just would stop being that idiot he sometimes was. She moved towards the window and opened it to let the smell of alcohol and sleep out. Greg let out a grunt and moved slightly. She waited a couple of minutes for him to wake up. When nothing happened she went back to the living room to let him get the rest he needed.

An hour after Molly had settled back on the couch she heard Greg moving from the bedroom to the bathroom. Another half an hour later he finally emerged, hair still wet. He wore a grey hoodie and tracksuit trousers. He went straight into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. “You want one too?” He asked looking over to Molly.  
“Yes please. What about breakfast?”  
“I'll get the stuff out.”  
“You shaved your stubbles,” Molly noticed.  
“Yes, said you didn't like it.”  
“I did but got used to it. It suited you. Wouldn't mind if you let it grow back.” she said with a wink.  
“I'll maybe let it grow again, then.” Greg smiled and placed the ham, cheese and bread on the table. He took a huge sip of his coffee. “Ahh, finally feeling at least halfway decent.”  
“Yeah, it was quite a night yesterday. Not a good combination your mates and my friends. At least not for the liver.” Molly laughed.  
Greg chuckled. “But at least Peter managed to get Zinat's number at the end. Not quite sure she knows what she's gotten herself into.”  
“And I'll be the one who takes the blame.”  
“Most likely.”  
“I'll pass it on to you then. Oh I talked to Theresa by the way,” Upon hearing that name Greg's head snapped up.”I told her to get her act together. Her behaviour was absolutely unacceptable. We're going to meet in a couple of days to have a proper talk.”  
“Never mind, she just didn't like me.”  
“That's still no excuse for the way she treated you.“  
“Maybe she just doesn't like cops? From time to time you meet people who had a bad experience and now think all coppers are bad.” Greg shrugged his shoulders. “She didn't talk much to Thomas or Peter either.”  
“But, still...”  
Greg swallowed a mouthful of bread. “You're other friends, Zinat and what was the name of the other one?” he waved his knife.  
“Carina.”  
“Yes Carina. They seemed to like me.” A cheeky smile crossed his face. He took another bite of his bread. “Well at least if one can believe what women say to each other when they think no one can hear them.”  
“What did you hear?”  
“Nothing, really. Just some things they were saying when we were leaving to talk outside.”  
“Oh god, and I hoped that you hadn't heard that.”  
“I might be old but I'm not deaf.” Greg laughed “Some say I don't even look like I'm nearly 50.”  
“Well no need to puff yourself up. It probably just had been the dim light which made you look younger. Or,” Molly pointed at him, “which is even more likely, they were talking about somebody completely different.” Secretly she was happy that Greg had overhead what her friends had been saying about him. That could prove as a well needed boost for his self-confidence.  
“Say what you want, I'm still a womaniser.”  
Molly smiled and send him a kiss. “Of course you are.”


	15. Chapter 15

“How was work this week?” Molly asked snuggling herself against Greg who had laid down on the couch. He was still breathing heavily from the walking exercise he had done before. They had seen each other mostly on the weekends the last two weeks as Greg had often been in a bad mood when he came home from work and Molly had been to stressed out from her own job to put up with this every day.

“Bloody boring as usual. All I'm doing is paperwork and all the bloody boring stuff no one else bothers to do because they are all out on crime scenes, interviews or looking for suspects. Feels like I'm a Constable all over again.” Greg moaned. “The only times I get out of the office is on lunch break. It's even worse, now that I'm on full time again.”

“So how's the case going, then?” Greg had told her, that he was working on a case, where a rich business man had been found dead.

Greg casually played with her hair. “Well the case is going good. We know who killed the man, now it's just a matter of catching her and get her to confess.

“Her?”

“Yep, his wife. Wanted to cash in on his life insurance and run away with her lover. We dubbed her the Black Widow.”

“Well you'd been lucky then, that your ex wife only decided to divorce you.” Molly teased.

Greg let out a loud laugh. “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

After a while Greg broke the silence.

“Molly?” he asked, propping himself up on one arm. “I want to ask you something.”

Molly turned her head and looked at him. “What is it, Greg?”

Greg cleared his throat and licked his lips nervously. “We're together for how long now? A year? And I really enjoy the times you stay at my flat, so I was wondering,” Greg stopped and took a deep breath, “I was wondering if you would want to move in with me? We can look for a new flat or you can move in here.” He ran his tongue over his lips and looked her in the eyes. “You don't have to decide now, of course.”

A smile broke out on Molly's face. “I would love to move in with you.” She gave him a long kiss. “And if it's okay for you do redecorate this bachelor flat a bit I am more that happy to move in here. The location is really nice and it's nearer to my work.”

Greg looked around his flat. It was indeed furnished very practically. The living room consist of a couch with a small table in front of it and a table on the opposite site of the room, on which his flat screen was standing on. There were nearly no decorations to be found and the whole furniture was more or less cobbled together. Everything had been chosen because of it's price and practicability not particular if it fits the rest. He chuckled slightly. Molly and he would have a lot to do to turn this mess in to a nice flat. “Yes of course. Let's make this a nice liveable flat.”

 

The next weeks they spend on deciding which of Greg's furniture would get kicked out and what was allowed to stay which was mostly nothing.

“Well when you said you were going to replace my furniture I thought you meant some and not all of it.” Greg grunted after he had seen the plan Molly had laid out for the redecoration.

“It's not all of it. You get to keep your wardrobe and the bed. But you must admit that my living room furniture is way more beautiful than yours and it would fit perfectly in here.”

Greg mumbled something obscure and after a brief discussion succumbed to his fate.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It finally was the day that Molly was moving in. Greg as well as Molly had called a few mates to help them. Greg was sitting outside his apartment complex waiting for the vans to arrive.

“Right up here. The door is open. Anything I can help you with?”

“Nah, we've got the furnitures in here. The girls and boxes are in the other van. There should be some light ones in 'em. Good god does she have much stuff.”

Greg felt bad that he wasn't of much help and was stuck to managing where to put what but he put on a smile. “ Yeah, still not sure how she thinks that it'll all fit in my flat,” he joked and watched as the men unloaded Molly's furnitures.

A couple of minutes later the second van arrived. Greg greeted Molly with a kiss and told her that his mates were already carrying up her furnitures.

“Great. Let's get the rest of the stuff in.” Molly said and walked back to the Van were Zinat and Carina were getting out. They walked over to Greg and greeted him with a hug. They had met regularly after the night in the pub especially after Zinat and Peter stared dating. “Still looking forward to Molly moving in?” Zinat joked.

“Well, you think she would let me change my opinion?” Greg answered laughing and got an elbow in the ribs from Molly as a reply. “Ow!” He rubbed his side. “See what I have to endure?”

“I would call that an unprovoked attack on a Police Officer, mate.” Thomas said and clapped his hands. “Right, these boxes won't carry themselves up to your flat.”

Greg helped carrying up some of the lighter boxes which he could put on his lap and after there were only the heavy stuff left he stayed in the flat and tried to coordinate the boxes into the right rooms.

 

2 hours later they had finally unloaded both of the vans. Greg had joined Peter and Thomas on the balcony where they were having a cigarette. He eyed them enviously.

“You want one too?” Peter asked and held out the pack.

“I would love to but Molly will kill me if she found out that I still smoke. Said I'm not even allowed to think about it until my lungs are fully healed and even then I better don't start again.”

“I think she's right, “ Thomas said. “It's not good that you are smoking again. Even if it's just occasionally. I mean you hadn't smoked for how long? During your stay in hospital and at least most of your stay in rehab, right? Shouldn't have started again, Greg.”

“Yeah I know. Think it was stress and frustration that had made me start again.” Greg shrugged his shoulders and looked over to Molly who was laughing with her friends in the kitchen. “But I guess you're right. I should try and stop.”

“So how's your therapy going then” Thomas asked, nodding over to the walker which was standing in a corner in the living room.

“Pretty good. Hope to ditch that thing from hell soon for crutches. Makes me look less grandpa-y when I'm in public. Not that I go out with that thing.”

Thomas and Peter laughed.

“Yeah, grey hair and a walker doesn't make you look like you're in the prime of your life.” Peter said and Thomas added laughing: “ but with Molly at your side people must think your bloody rich.”

Greg laughed. “Never seen it that way.“ He slightly shook his beer bottle, “shall we go back inside? My beer is empty and I'm kinda afraid of what the women are plotting.” He nodded over to Molly and her friends who were looking over to them, laughing suspiciously.

 

After everybody had left and they were alone Greg pulled Molly close and gave her a kiss. “You know, it actually looks quite nice with your furnitures.” he said smirking.

“See, I told you it does.”

Their friends had helped them to put up the furnitures and now all they had to do in the next couple of days was to unpack the mass of boxes.

“You know you should use that thing more often.” Molly said putting the walker, Greg had used to show his friends his walking, back into the corner. “Not just around your flat.”

Greg shook his head. “I'm not going to use that thing outside.”

“Why not? It'll help your walking.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I will look – and feel actually – like a bloody granddad. Plus I'm really slow as you may have noticed and not really able to walk long distances, so the wheelchair is still the best way to move around I'm afraid.”

“What about crutches, then? I think your walking has improved to a level where you could try them if you don't want to walk with a walker in public.”

“ We take the wheelchair with us of course. So that you can sit down any time you want. And what about at work? I mean you could at least use it while you are at the Yard.”

“No!” He pointed his finger at her. “No, no no, no, Molly. I am not using that thing at work.” He spit out the last part of the sentence.

“But..”

“Molly, no! End of discussion.” Greg abruptly turned around and made his way into the kitchen to get himself something to drink. He then stopped and turned back towards her. “What's that all about anyway? You're suddenly tired of having a partner in a wheelchair? Embarrassed to walk next to me in public? Deal with it Molly. It will be like this for quite some time, if not for ever.”

Molly sighted. The doctor had told them that Greg should practice as often as possible with the walker to help improve his walking. He did use it at home but as soon as Molly proposed to go outside so that he could walk longer distances without having to turn around after a couple of steps, Greg shut down. The walking was still quite wobbly, his right leg mostly dragging along when Greg thought he wasn't watched and Molly always scolded him when she noticed but he was walking on his own and he was able to do it for more than just a couple of steps.

Molly could only guess why Greg didn't want to use the walker or crutches in public or at work but it probably was because he was afraid of what the people would think and that they would stare. More than some already did.

Deep down she wanted to shout at him for being such a stubborn idiot. Make him see that it was nothing to be ashamed of and that she would be with him if they go outside. But Molly knew Greg long enough now, to know that he would just get even more angry and possibly depressed and it would all end in a nasty fight. Nastier than this fight had already gotten. So she kept quiet and walked over to him. She knelt down in front of him and put her hands on his legs. “Listen to me Greg. I'm not ashamed of you. What makes you think of that? I love you. And I'll love you no matter if you will be in this chair forever or not. It's not about that. I just want the best for you and right now I think it is to walk as much as possible to get as much movement back as possible.” She looked Greg in his eyes. “Okay?”

Greg gave a nod. “Yeah, I guess. Sorry for overreacting.”

“It's alright. Hard day and stuff.”

Greg poured himself a glass of water and made his way into the living room. Yes his walking had improved a great deal and during his PT sessions he had been told to walk as much as possible with that dreaded walker and try with crutches from time to time. He still had to concentrate very hard to move his right leg, but at least it had gotten better. But it had been 11 month since he had gotten injured and Greg was now at a point where he wasn't sure if his walking would ever improve to a level where he would be able to walk without any aids. And he was afraid that if he would move to crutches he would fall, loosing his balance too easily. He moved to the couch and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back, sighing deeply. After a while he felt Molly sitting down next to him.

“What's wrong, Greg? You look really sad. Is it about what I said?”

Greg opened his eyes and looked over to Molly. “Nah, it's all fine.”

Molly gave him a long look. It wasn't hard to see that nothing was fine right now but she couldn't push that topic any further. After their last big fight they had agreed that she wouldn't push any topics Greg doesn't want to talk about and Greg had promised to not let his bad mood out on her anymore. The agreement had worked surprisingly well the last month.

“Ok,” she said and got up. “I'm going to do the laundry and try to clear the bedroom of some boxes.” She was nearly out of the room when Greg started. “ Well, to be honest I'm not fine at the moment.” Molly turned around and sat down again.

“You know,” Greg turned his head towards her, “sometimes when I lay awake at night I ask myself what could I possible have done to deserve all of this. I should have noticed that something was off. I mean why didn't I leave when I had the chance? He left for a few minutes for fuck’s sake. I should've run and then called Sally.”

“ You don't deserve any of this Greg. And it's not your fault. This madman wanted you dead. There is nothing you could've done. He knocked you down. You were concussed.”

“You know what else troubles me? McNish wanted me killed, I get that. He thinks it's my fault that his father had been killed. But I mean why now? It's been years since his father has died on that raid, he could've gotten his revenge any time he wanted. Shoot me in an alley. Bash my head in, drown me in the Thames. Like Sherlock said I'm incredibly easy to kill. Why going through so much trouble? Why stage a murder and wait for me to interview Greydon? It just doesn't make any sense.”

“I don't know, Greg. I honestly don't know. Didn't he say anything during the questionings?”

“No, well at least not as far as I know. Sherlock's brother Mycroft holds him in some government facility, waiting for my call so that he can officially be booked and stand trial.”

“Why haven't you done that already? I mean isn't it months since Sherlock had found him?”

Greg looked down and licked his lips. “ I don't know. I guess I wanted to be able to walk when I face him in the court room. Showing him that he couldn't bring me down but I guess....” he didn't finished the sentence and shrugged his shoulders instead.

“Sometimes your stubbornness is just unbelievable, Greg.” Molly said shaking her head.

“Wha'?”

“How long where you planning on waiting? Do you think Mycroft will be able to keep McNish in this prison for an infinite amount of time?”

Greg shrugged his shoulders. “Well no, but..”

“We have a legal system here. Human rights and a lot of other stuff which ensures that people can't be imprisoned for an infinite amount of time without being convicted. Even if done by basically the government. Your a Police Officer for Christ's sake, Greg. You of all people should know that.”

Greg looked at her with big eyes. He hadn't expected such a dressing down.

“ I understand that it is hard for you thinking about looking the man who had ordered to kill you in the eyes but it needs to be done. Either that or giving a video statement.”

“I'm not giving the bastard that satisfaction.”

“See. So call Mycroft, tell him to get McNish ready for trial. And I'm pretty sure that if you tell him to set the date in about 2 month your walking will have improved enough so that you can easily walk in court with crutches.”

“Your sure?”

“Yeah, you just need to practice regularly. Start using them and start walking longer distances.”

Greg looked at Molly. When he had first met her he would have never thought that she could be so bossy. He sighed. “Right, I'm going to call him first thing Monday morning.”

Molly smiled. She had killed two birds with one stone. She had finally gotten him to face McNish. He had never told her before of his fear but a couple of weeks ago she had overhead a conversation with his mates about his fear of meeting McNish in court. She had waited for the right moment to push him towards his luck and now it had finally arrived. Plus he will now be working harder on his walking. Greg had been giving up too easy during the last week.

“So any plans for next weekend?”

“Well on Saturday I'm going to watch my mates play and then we're off going to see the Arsenal but on Sunday I'm all yours.”

“If your not suffering from a hangover, that is.” Molly said half jokingly. She knew just too well how it could end when Greg was out with his mates.

“Just a couple of pints after the game and then I'm heading straight back home,” Greg gave Molly a kiss.

“No need to hurry. I think I'm going to go out with some friends. When does the game start?“

“Kick off is 4pm. Good to know, I won't be home early then.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next weekend Greg put on his kit after breakfast and made his way towards the football field where the team he used to play at before his injury was playing today. More or less every Unit of the Yard has its own football team and they played against each other on a regular basis.

He spotted Peter and the rest of his team and made his way over. They greeted each other with a hug. “So who are we playing today?” Greg asked.

“The guys from the Gang Unit.”

“Uh shit. They're tough.”

“Yeah, thanks for your support mate.” Peter said in an ironic tone.

“Which doesn't mean that you can't beat them. Even though your best man is out for now.” Greg laughed.

“Yeah, in your dreams.”

“You here to see your team loose, Lestrade?” Johnson, one of the guys from the Gang Unit shouted while walking over to Greg and Peter.

“Funny I was about to ask you the same.” Greg answered, shaking Johnson's hand.

“Won't happen, Lestrade. Won't happen. But it's good to see you're back. Heard about the shooting. What a bastard.”

“Yeah, but couldn't bring me down, could he? Still here, still working for the Yard while McNish will rot in prison.”

“Good to hear. Would've missed working with you on joined cases.” Johnson replied and gave Greg a slap on the shoulder.

Greg smiled and made his way over to his team mates.

 

It had been an intense game but the Murder Investigation Team beat the Gang Unit 2:1.

The typical banter had been exchanged after the match and now Greg, Peter and a couple of other mates who weren't coppers where sitting in a pub in Holloway, waiting until it's time to walk over to the ground.

“Are you sitting with us or will you be over in one of the, the... well you know..” one of Greg's friends asked.

“Disabled areas? Well I'm afraid yes. Dunno how far that'll be away from where we usually are sitting, though.”

Peter leant forward “Fear not. Remember when I asked you to not get the tickets over your Season Tickets or Membership Cards but instead let me get them ? Well I put in a phone call or two to get us the tickets and managed to get us all pretty close together. Greg and one other person, I forgot who, will be sitting in the disabled area, the rest will be having seats close by so that we all sit together more or less.”

“How the hell did you manage that?”

“You probably won't like this and I'm terribly sorry but I might have played the copper injured in the line of duty card. Would never have thought that it'll work but it did. I just wanted it for you to be like before as much as possible, you know.” Peter said with an apologetic look on his face.

Greg looked at Peter. Yeah, he wasn't really happy as he preferred to keep the circumstances about his injury quiet. But still he was very thankful that Peter has gone through great lengths to make sure that he will be with his mates during the game. Greg had to fight back some tears of emotion. He cleared his throat. “Thanks mate, I really appreciate.”

 

Greg had a blast at the game. He enjoyed cheering with his friends. Peter was right, it almost felt like before the injury. It was a really nerve wrecking game. Arsenal had been in the lead but caught 2 counter goals just before half time and it was now a draw. It felt good exchanging the typical banter with his friends and other supporter's during half time while quickly downing a pint. He had quite a depressive episode lately and days like this, doing things he had always loved with his friends, helped him cope. “You daft? Alexis and Santi overrated? Sanchez was one of the best purchases Wenger had made in the summer. Even though he hasn't scored today I tell you this guy is awesome.” Greg told a mate who was arguing that the Chilean and Spaniard were totally overrated. “And did you even see Cazorla? He's the bomb today.”

“Absolutely,” one of his friends agreed. A couple of heat-full arguments, only disrupted by some chants, later they made their way back to watch the game and just to prove the point Greg had earlier made, Alexis Sanchez shot the victory goal with an assist by Özil.

They celebrated the victory in a supporter's pub and after a couple of pints a very happy and slightly tipsy Detective Inspector made is way home.

 

When Greg exited the elevator on his floor he was greeted by an incredible noise. It sounded like a flock of geese had landed in his flat. He shook his head and took off his jacket and shoes before making his way into the living room. What he found there were Molly and 5 other women and it seemed to Greg that all of them were talking at once.

“Gosh I heard you halfway through the building,” Greg joked laughing.

“Hey Greg. Didn't expect you home so early.” Molly got up and gave Greg a kiss.

“Yeah, been a long day today actually. And Peter is on duty tomorrow so I decided to leave with him so that we could share a cab to the next accessible tube station. Didn't you want to go out?”

“Yeah, we're just about to leave.” Molly said and introduced Greg to the friends he hasn't met already. “How was your day?”

“Good. We finally beat the Gang Unit and Arsenal later won.”

“Hey why don't you join us?” one of Molly's friends asked. “Molly wanted to show us a pub around the corner.”

For a moment he thought about declining. He was really worn out from the day and his shoulders and back were hurting. But he didn't want to seem rude, or old and boring as a matter of fact, so he accepted.

And even though he would vehemently deny it in any future conversations, he secretly had enjoyed being the only cock in the yard that evening.

 

 

* * *

 

 

On Monday Greg got an mail from Mycroft that the court date will most likely be in 6 weeks. He was finally working full time and own cases again though he still was on boring desk- and paperwork. The most exiting moment was when he had been out to check a couple of hunting stores if a certain gun had been bought there recently. Normally this was a job the new constables were ordered to do as none of the senior officers were pretty keen on spending the whole day running around London from one shop to another. But this already had been at least 3 weeks ago and Greg was about to suffer from cabin fever if he wasn't leaving this office soon. So he called one of the new guys in his office, a scrawny boy not much older than 22 who just recently had been assigned to his team and told him that he had gotten the whereabouts of the lover of the suspect and that they should fetch him in for questioning. Constable Brown tried his best but Greg could see that he wasn't very happy doing something both of them weren't really supposed to do.

“ With all due respect, Sir. But don't you think we could get in trouble for this? One of the response cars could do that for us if..”

“Oh shut up Brown.” Greg interrupted him. “I'm this close in actually killing somebody if I'm not getting out of this office soon and do some proper police work. I bet you didn't imagine your job at CID just consisting of putting data into a computer or run across town to find a certain type of hammer, did you?”

Brown shook his head.

“See. And don't worry. I got your back if there should be trouble with the bosses.

 

“Sir?” Constable Brown asked concerned after they had arrived at the location. “Shouldn't we call some back up and wait?” Upon arriving at the location they were told by a neighbour that he just had witnessed two people fighting in front of the apartment and heard screaming afterwards from the inside.

“Of course we call it in. Do it. But we have to go inside nonetheless. Can't risk her getting away.” Greg slowly pushed the front door open which they had found ajar. He carefully avoided the bloodstains on it and told Brown to check the rooms upstairs, while he took care of the ones on the ground floor.

He announced that he was police and heard Brown doing the same upstairs. He heard a soft bang from the end of the corridor as if someone was trying to close a door as quietly as possible but had failed in this endeavour. Adrenalin started rushing through Greg's veins. He knew that it was utterly stupid to go in without any proper backup but god had he missed this feeling. The rush he always felt when there was a certain element of danger to a situation. A feeling he knew he somehow couldn't live without.

Greg slowly made his way towards the door at the end of the corridor. It was also smeared with blood. There was no blood on the floor or on the walls, so it seemed to Greg that the attacker either banged the victims head against the doors or his or the victims hands were smeared with it and had been left there when the doors had been opened. He carefully pushed the door open and saw a body lying on the floor. Blood was poring from wounds to his torso and a laceration on his head. The door to the balcony was closed but Greg could see that the handle was still turned sideways as if somebody had closed the it from the outside. “Don't need to be a Sherlock Holmes to figure out that somebody is hiding on it.” Greg thought to himself. Most likely under the table which was covered by a cloth.

He made his way towards the body and carefully bend down to feel for a pulse and let out a sigh of relieve when he found one. He moved from his chair to the floor, not letting the balcony door out of sight, and pressed his hands on the wounds to slow down the bleeding.

“Nothing upstairs, Sir.” Brown said suddenly behind him and made Greg jump. “Jesus, Brown. Don't sneak up on me like that.”

“Shit, sorry Sir. Didn't meant to surprise you. Oh shit. Is that our guy?” He added and nodded towards the body in front of Greg.

“Yep, that's him. He's still alive luckily.” Greg nodded towards the balcony, “ wanna do your first arrest for the Yard?”

Brown looked at him quizzically. “Sir?”

“The Black Widow, I'm quite sure she's hiding on the balcony. Think the poor sod here got cold feet and wanted to go to the police. She wasn't happy about his plan and tried to finish him off. Got interrupted and is now freezing her ass off on the balcony. Nowhere to go from there.”

Sirens could be heard in the distance, but still seemed pretty far away, “So do you want to arrest her or shall I and the backup get all the glory?”

Brown walked over to the door and opened it. “Right, lady. We now that you are here. Come out with your hands over your head. Do not give us any reason to use force on you.”

Greg saw the woman slowly crawling out from beneath the table, holding a long kitchen knife. He tensed. Brown produced his baton. “Drop your weapon!” but she kept walking towards him, knife risen above her head.  
“Drop it. Now.” Greg bellowed. She looked over to him then to her lover on the floor and let the knife fall down, tears streaming down her face. Brown quickly pinned her to the wall and arrested her on the suspicion of the murder and grievous body harm. “I'm so sorry,” she mumbled when Brown let her past the body on the floor. “ I didn't meant to. Will he be alright?”

“Bit too late now, innit?” Greg replied, still trying to stop the bleeding. “Get the medics in here asap, this guy's bleeding out,” he shouted to Brown, pressing harder on the wound. The man in front of him moaned in pain. “You'll be fine. Just hang on, okay?” Greg tried to reassure him. Suddenly a thought crossed his mind, that it must have looked similar when he had gotten shot. A picture popped up in his head showing him lying on the floor while John was putting pressure on his wounds. “Shit not now,” Greg cursed. His breathing quickened and he had to use all his willpower to keep the panic attack at bay.

A few minutes later a couple of police officer and 2 paramedics entered. Greg pushed himself back up in his chair, ignoring the surprised stares of the other coppers, and made his way to the kitchen to wash off the blood. He scrubbed viciously with a steel scouring pad to get it off, not even noticing the pain it caused. When Greg had finally washed all the blood off his hands he rested his head on the sink and breathed slowly to calm him down. “Great,” he thought to himself. “If that's going to happen every time I get in touch with blood its good bye active duty and hello rotting away at a boring desk job.” He swore to himself that he would never ever talk to somebody about that being sure that he'll manage that problem, somehow.

 

On his way home from work he felt incredibly happy, despite the panic attack earlier. Normally he was just annoyed when he left the office and wanted to be home as fast as possible and to be left alone. But even though he had gotten a major bollocking from his superior it couldn't stop his good mood. The lover had survived and had made a statement so that they were able to charge the Black Widow with murder and attempted murder.

“What are you so happy about?” Molly asked after they met after work at the restaurant Greg had invited her to.

“Finally got out of the office and made an arrest today. Well the new guy did the actual arrest for obvious reason but still finally some adrenalin and excitement.” Greg still had a huge smile on his face, his eyes glowing.

Molly forced a smile. She wasn't very happy that Greg had put himself in danger. The arrest could have gone horrible wrong and Greg was in no way fit enough to defend himself properly if he were attacked. “That's good to hear. So you're officially cleared for active duty now?”  
Greg shook his head. “Partly, the chief was pretty pissed off with me, actually. But still gave me permission to go out on crime scenes and do all the other stuff that isn't potentially dangerous.”

“He did?” Molly asked doubtfully.

Greg shrugged his shoulders. “Yes, took me by surprise as well, to be honest. But I think he did it because he thought that I would be doing it anyway at one point, so he spared us both some trouble.”

Greg was incredibly happy. Not only was he finally allowed to work his own cases again he was also cleared to go out to crime scenes, interrogate suspects and do all the other stuff that he had missed so badly. And Molly could see that and she hoped that it'll help with his depression even though she still disapproved him being cleared for active duty even if it was restricted. She knew him well enough that he will put himself in harm's way sooner or later again. She had noticed over the years she knew the Detective Inspector that he was prone to injuries as he was always putting his body on the front line to protect his team or anyone else he cared for.

“I'm happy for you. But please be careful, okay?”

“I will,” he promised.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next weeks Greg was busy working a case where the victims were killed in their beds. They had no leads whatsoever and Greg was considering to let Sherlock in. The press was all over it, putting pressure on him and his team to catch the killer as soon as possible. The Met had scheduled a press conference where Greg was supposed to calm the press down and tell them that they were very close on catching the killer. That was an outright lie but Greg did his best to feed it to the press. He hated press conferences, always had. Hated how the press wrote about him afterwards. Especially the yellow press.

So when Molly came home from work that day she did her best to uplift Greg's mood. Greg had settled on the couch, eyes closed, dozing. She walked over and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

Greg yawned and opened his eyes. “Hey.”

“Hey, saw you on the telly today. You looked good.”

Greg groaned and sat up. “Please don't remind me. It was absolutely horrible.”

“No you did great. And the reports weren't that bad.”

Greg huffed. “Yeah whatever. You're hungry?” He asked, about to get up to make dinner. Since they were officially living together they had made the deal that whoever came home first was on kitchen duty.

“Stay put, I'm going to make dinner tonight.” Molly said. “I bought us some nice steaks, thought that it might cheer you up.”

A huge smile formed on Greg's face. “You're a gem, Molly. Really.”

 

After Dinner Greg's mood had gotten significantly better and he and Molly were cuddling on the couch when the phone rang. Molly got up to answer it.

“Greg. It's for you. Your ex-wife. Something about the visit of your sons last weekend.”

Greg groaned and took the phone. “Yes?”

“How are you?” Jane, his ex wife, greeted him.

“Good. What do you want?”

“Oliver just failed his maths test.” his ex-wife in a tone Greg just knew too well.

“And how exactly is that supposed to be my fault?” He clamped the phone between his ear and shoulder and made his way to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

“I told you that he was supposed to study over the weekend.”

“For Christ's sake, Jane. It has been months since he had been back in London. He wanted to meet with friends, do stuff with me. I haven't seen him in ages and you expect me to tell him to stay at the flat and study?” Greg said loudly.

“It's okay Greg, there is no need to...”

“No it's not okay. You bloody cheated on me and then dragged our children up to Scotland. Nothing about that is okay,” he shouted. “You talked me into believing that it would be the best if the kids were living with you because of my working hours. I thought that this was fine. Thought that you would stay in London with them and that I could see them more often than any couple of months. That they would stay with me every other weekend or during the week.”

“I didn't know that we were going to move to Scotland.”

“That's bullshit Jane and you know that. You knew damn well that you were going to move. But you were just too much of a coward to tell me, afraid that I would want sole custody then. I bloody miss my sons and I'm not letting you dictate how we are supposed to spend the few days we actually get with each other. Oh and by the way. The boys are going to spend the whole Christmas holidays with me and Molly this year. And yes, that also includes Christmas day, Christmas eve and Boxing Day.” With that Greg ended the call and threw the phone onto the bed.

“Aargh,” he screamed, pressing his hands against his forehead. “That bloody...” He wished he could kick something, instead he curled his right hand to a fist and punched the wardrobe.”Fuck!”

A soft knock made him stop before he could punch the furniture a second time.

“Mind if I come in?” Molly asked with a soft voice.

“No, please do.”

Molly sat down on the bed. “You alright?”

Greg rubbed the knuckles on his hand. “Damn that had hurt,” he thought. “Yes, well no. I don't know. This woman just pisses me off.”

“What did she want?”

“Oliver failed in a test and now she thinks it's my fault because he didn't study when he was here for the weekend. And then I might have lost it a bit.”

“I could hear that.” Molly said with a smile.

“Sorry, didn't meant to shout.”

“It's okay. I can understand that.”

“I might have made a mistake, though” Greg said after a pause.

Molly raised her eyebrows. “What did you do?”

“Well, as I said I got a bit carried away and with that I told her that James and Oliver are going to spend the whole Christmas holidays with us.” Greg squinted his eyes and looked at Molly apologetically. “I know that I should have talked to you about that beforehand but it just came out in the heat of the moment. I couldn't stop it. Please don't be mad.”

Molly gave Greg a long look. “Would have been better, yeah. I'm slightly taken by surprise. And 2 teenage boys staying for nearly 2 weeks is a bit different to having them over for a weekend. But I love them and I know that it hurts you that you don't see them so often so I think I'm okay with that. And maybe it gives us a reason to drop out of the awkward Christmas party John is most likely planning again at Baker Street.”

Greg laughed. “You know that without that Christmas Party I would've probably never have hit on you.”

“Oh god, that was so embarrassing, me completely overdressed.”

“Yeah, but you looked absolutely gorgeous.” He wheeled over to where Molly was sitting and moved next to her. He suppressed a slight hiss when the movement send some pain through his back. He had walked a lot with crutches at home over the week and that had aggravated the usual pain he sometimes had.

He leaned over to Molly and softly kissed her neck. “As you do every day, as a matter of fact.” he whispered and slowly pushed her shirt up when suddenly his mobile started ringing. He groaned and looked on the display who the caller was and if he could be ignored. “Sorry, I'm afraid I have to take this.” he said.

Molly pulled her shirt back down and listened to the conversation:

“Donovan?”

“Shit! Where?”

“Are you still at the Yard?”

“Can you pick me up on the way? Will be easier than going by tube.”

“ Yeah, I'm pretty much ready. Gimme a call when you're outside.”

“Alright, see you then.” Greg ended the call and turned to Molly. “Sorry, Gotta go. That was Donovan. They found another body.”

“The bedroom killer case?”

“Yes, god I hope he made some mistake this time.” He called over from the hallway were he was putting on his shoes and jacket. His phone rang again. “I'll be downstairs in a second.” Molly heard him say. Greg then returned to the bedroom and gave her a kiss. “Don't wait up. It'll probably be late.”

Molly sighed, sometimes it was hard being with a copper. A new body in a case like that always meant that he was going to work long hours the following days, following every possible new lead. At least she knew that she'll most likely see Greg tomorrow at work when she's doing the post mortem.

 

Molly had been right. The pressure by the press grew and during the following week Greg worked himself to the ground. He went to work early and when he came home late he tried his best to spend time with her but it always ended with him falling asleep after a short time only to be woken by Molly, telling him to go to bed.

At the end of the week Greg was utterly exhausted. All he wanted to do was to sleep for 2 days straight but they had been invited by Greg's parents to come over as they finally wanted to meet the new woman in his life.

At least his parent's lived a couple of hours away in Devon so he used the drive to catch up on some much needed sleep.

 

Molly stopped the car in front of the house of Greg's parents. It was an old Farmhouse surrounded by fields.

Greg stretched his arms before opening his door and with Molly's help got the crutches from the back seats. He positioned his legs and slowly stood up. His parents had already noticed their arrival and where standing on their porch. Greg smiled at the yelp of surprise which escaped his mother's lips upon seeing her son standing up. The last time they had seen each other he had hardly been able to move his legs. So he really wanted to surprise them with this.

“Oh my god Gregory. You're walking.” His mother exclaimed when he made his way towards them. Tears of joy were running down her face.

“Only short distances and really really slow as you can see but it's a start, innit?”

“It's amazing.” His mother had closed the gap between them and gave him a careful hug. Greg looked over to his father and thought that he saw a couple of tears in his eyes as well.

“Good to see you up and about again,” he said and greeted his son with a hug. He then stepped back and held his hand out to Molly. “Nice to finally meet you officially, Miss Hooper.”

Upon Greg's puzzled face Molly explained that they had run into each other a couple of times at the hospital.

“Your mother and I might be old but we're not stupid. We noticed that there must have been something going on between you two.”

Greg laughed uncomfortably. “Right, yeah. Shall we go inside? Gets a bit cold, doesn't it?”

Greg's father helped Molly with their luggage and Greg's wheelchair and showed them were they were going to sleep.

“Normally we would have given you Greg's old room which we turned to a guest room after he had moved out but it's upstairs so yeah... you get to sleep in our bedroom.”

 

“It's a very nice here. Never thought you grew up so rural.” Molly said while they were sitting around the dinner table.

“I didn't. We moved here from London when I was a teenager. And I hated it to be honest.”

“But it was for your best, wasn't it? You were getting in a lot of troubles back then,” Greg's father leaned over to Molly. “Gregory was quite a rebel in his teenage years.”

Molly let out a hearty laugh. “You were what?”

“Come on, it wasn't that bad that we had to move. You got a job offer here, that was why we moved.”

“Not that bad? Smoking god knows what stuff, sneaking out of the flat on a frequent level to go get drunk and skipping school. Getting into fights? Sometimes he was gone for days until the police brought him back or he returned because he ran out of money.”

Molly looked at Greg and his parents, utterly amazed. “Really?”

Greg rolled his eyes. “It had been a phase. A lot of teenagers were doing stuff like that back then. It's not like I was a criminal.”

“Not?” His mother raised an eyebrow.

“Never convicted you mean,” his father added. “ We had to pick you up from the police a couple of times.” He looked over to his wife. “Remember when we had to pick him up from the police station all the way cross town in Brixton after he got caught breaking into the outdoor swimming pool. Sitting there with only his wet boxers on because he had lost his clothes during the chase, looking rather miserable.“

Molly couldn't stop laughing.

“Or the one time when...” his mother started but was interrupted by Greg.

“Gosh.” his face had turned alarmingly red. “Could you please stop?”

Molly rubbed his arm. “Our lovely Detective Inspector was quite a bad boy? I wonder if Sherlock knows about that stuff.”

“Don't you dare! His scary brother probably does, though.”

To the delight of Greg the conversation then stirred towards a different direction and the four of them sat together, laughing and drinking for quite some time that evening.

 

 

When Greg woke up the next morning he found Molly already awake, reading a book.

“What are you reading?” Greg asked nodding at the book Molly was holding.

“ It's 'The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest' . The third book of the Millennium series by Stieg Larsson”

“ Any good?”

“Yeah, love them. They are about a journalist, Blomkvist. In the first book he investigated the disappearance of a girl some 30 years ago, the second was about sex trade and now it's about some shady things going on inside the Swedish Security Service.”

“ Ah, I remember.”

“You remember what?” Molly asked putting the book away.

“You know, back when I was in hospital, in the ICU, I remember you reading to me.”

“You do?” Molly blushed which made Greg chuckle. He leaned over and gave her a kiss.

“I really liked it. I don't remember much of my time there but I do remember waking up to your voice reading to me. Always made me feel good, you know? And later it kept me from thinking too much. Sometimes I just didn't want to open my eyes knowing that if I did I would be back in the reality. See all that hospital stuff that surrounded me, the sorrow and all that. So I just lay there, listening to your voice, hoping that you wouldn't stop and pretended that we were some place else. Lying together in a bed and you were reading to me for some other reason not because I was lying in a hospital bed, slipping in and out of consciousness. And yeah, I think you read one of these books to me.”

Molly laid her head on Greg's shoulder and ran her hand over his chest playing with the hair. “ I did. And I'm glad that it made you happy. That it helped you escape.” She remembered sitting at Greg's bed in the ICU every day while he was heavily sedated. How he had reacted to her voice, moving his head towards her when she begun reading. How the monitors showed that it did calm him down.

“It helped a great deal. And I love you so much for that. I'm incredibly lucky to have you by my side.”

They cuddled for a while until they heard Greg's parents rummaging in the kitchen and decided that it was time to get up. They enjoyed a hearty breakfast and after Molly had told them that she actually never had been at Exmoor they spend the next couple of hours driving around the countryside finding somewhere where they could go for a walk where Greg wouldn't get stuck with his wheelchair.

“Dad it's fine. Just park somewhere and let's go. If I can't go any further we turn around and walk back, simple as that.”

Molly reached over and squeezed Greg's hand. She knew how much he hated it when people were making things overcomplicated just because he was in a wheelchair. “Sorry,” she mouthed.

“Maybe we can find a visitor centre and ask them if they have maps that point out wheelchair accessible walks,” Greg's father offered.

Greg drew in a sharp breath. “Just park the bloody car somewhere!”

Molly rubbed her thump over his hand in an attempt to calm Greg down. She could see his frustration growing.

“Sorry for caring.” His father snapped back and pulled over onto the next parking area right next to a pub.

“It's not about that. There is simply no need to make a fuss about finding the right track. I'm not suddenly made out of glass just because I'm in a wheelchair.”

They exited the car and Greg's father looked around. “I don't even know if there's something particular interesting to see around here, “ he huffed and began walking towards an information board.

“After all that driving around we probably won't have much daylight left anyway.” Greg muttered while putting his coat and gloves on.

Greg's mother leaned over to Molly and whispered: “If you ever were wondering where Gregory got his stubbornness and temper from, well now you know.”

They both looked over to the two men who were still arguing with each other. Molly smiled. “Yeah, he sometimes can be a bit...” she stopped, trying to find the right word.

“Thick-headed?” Greg's mother offered.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Just like his father.” And with that the two women made their way towards their men.

“No you're not going inside the bloody pub and ask.” Molly heard Greg saying. Next to her his mother sighed. “You have my utmost respect for managing two of that kind all the years.”

“You know sometimes I thought about 'forgetting' both of them at a service station or at the shops.” Greg's mother laughed and then turned towards her husband and son. “Can we go now or are you two still busy bickering?”

 

Molly and Greg's father were walking ahead, Molly getting a lecture about the flora and fauna of Exmoor.

Greg and his mother followed a few feet behind. Never really having used his wheelchair in rough terrain he had underestimated the amount of stamina it took to move. So he was a bit slower than usual.

“You shouldn't be so harsh to your father. You know how he is, he only means well.”

“I know. I'm sorry. It just sometimes gets really annoying getting treated differently. That a lot of people are wrapping you up in cotton wool when you are in a wheelchair. And you do that too. I know you don't do it on purpose but still. I'm not different than before.“

“Do I? Sorry, I'll try to stop.”

“Thanks. I think I'm going to rescue Molly before Dad bores her to death with his Exmoor facts.”

Greg's mother laughed. “Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

 

They sped up until they had reached Molly and his father. “You're enjoying this trip, Molly?”

“Gosh, yes. Your father knows incredibly much.”

“He does, doesn't he?”

They reached a turning where they could either turn left and head back to the car park or keep walking and take a longer route back which promised some cliffs.

“Well I would op for the short route back to the car, to be honest. I'm pretty much done. It's a lot harder to move around than I had thought.” Greg said.

“Right the short route it is then,” Greg's mother said and started to turn.

“Actually I would really love to see the cliffs. Come on. It's not that far. And your father told me earlier that we have to see them. Apparently they are really steep. I'll push you if you want to. ”

“Off the cliffs?” Greg asked laughing. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“No, I wouldn't do that. Too many witnesses.” Molly laughed

“Now that's reassuring.”

“Come on, I'll buy you a beer when we're back at the pub.” she offered and after Greg finally agreed she grabbed the handles of Greg's wheelchair and they made their way towards the cliffs.

 

On the way back it started to rain and the four hurried to reach the pub. Greg and his mum were waiting at the table while Molly and his father were getting the drinks.

“I see what you mean now, “ Greg's mother started. “At the turning. When you said that you wanted to go back because you were tired I immediately said that we should return to the car even though I also wanted to see the cliffs. Wouldn't have said that if... you know. But Molly didn't do that. She wanted to see them and persuaded you until you agreed. I'm sorry if we...”

Greg reached over and laid his hand on his mother's arm. “ Don't be. It's something one has to get accustomed to. That's why I talked to you about that earlier. Molly sees me every day so she doesn't really notice the wheelchair anymore. You and Dad see me every couple of month for a couple of days so it's just natural that you have to get used to it. It's fine.” He saw Molly and his father return with the promised beer. “Ah finally.” Greg said and reached for his Pint.

 

Later that evening , when Greg and Molly made their way back to London, he kept thinking about the words his father had said to him when they had a moment alone. “Molly is a great woman, Gregory. And I know you said that you never wanted to get married again after your divorce but Molly, she's an angel, you know? You should marry her.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for this story. But don't be sad. I plan to make a Series with a lot more stories about the lives of Greg and Molly. Some set before this story, some after. So there is definitely more to come and the next stories will be published after I finished them, so no more waiting months for the next chapter ;)  
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

Greg's walking had really improved over the time. Even though his back was hurting he now walked most of the time on crutches and only needed the wheelchair when he knew that he had to walk longer distances or at work. He didn't know if he would have achieved all that if he didn't had Molly at his side. He was still struggling with the psychological affects of what had happened to him and Molly was a great help there.

Greg knew that their relationship wasn't always as perfect as it maybe appeared from the outside. They fought with each other on a surprisingly regular basis. He loved her with all his heart, there was no doubt about that but because of all that what had happened with his ex wife he really had some trust issues. He saw how she sometimes looked at Sherlock, the look in her eyes and sometimes couldn't stop to asked himself if he wasn't just another guy until Sherlock. That maybe she gets bored with him because he was older and sometimes his idea of a perfect weekend differed from hers. He had always felt displaced when he agreed to come with her to some trendy bars to meet with Molly's friends. Over the last month he had spend many of the weekends with his friends, either at the Emirate's or in the evening in a pub. She had started to go out with her friends alone, without him. Which was fine with him at the beginning. He then spend the evenings with his mates at a pub or had a quit night in. But then a thought had crawled up. A though he knew wasn't fair to her to even think about. That she loved him. That this was bollocks, that she would never do that to him but on some days this little thought planted itself in the back of his head, that sooner or later she would get bored and cheat on him with a younger man. A man more of her age, more healthier. A man she could have children with who wouldn't be way over 50 when their kids might still be in their teens. He wanted to have children with her, no question about that but he just wasn't sure if he would be able to manage all the stress again in his age.

His hand lingered over the door handle but he hesitated. The words of his father ran through his mind: “ _she's an angel. You should marry her_.” He really wanted to. He wanted to spend the rest of his live with her. Start a new family. But did she want it as well? He moved away from the door. Back to the spot were he had stood the last 10 minutes.

And what does marriage mean? His last had been a disaster. Till death do us part they had promised to each other. Death hadn't parted him and his ex wife, a bloody PE teacher had. And who could guarantee that it wouldn't happen to him again? So maybe it would be better to leave it like it's now. Plus what if he asks her and she says no. They were together for just about two years. Would she feel rushed? Most likely. Could he live with the rejection? Most likely not. Greg sighed and ran his hands over his face. He looked at his watch. He should go back to the Yard, a lot of paperwork was waiting for him. He turned his wheelchair around, away from the display of engagement rings in the jeweller’s window and made his way back, the cold wind of the beginning winter biting through his clothes.

 

When Greg returned from work he felt really exhausted. He had developed a slight cough over the last couple of days but it had gotten worse over the day. Greg had been feeling sick over the last weeks. It had started after they had returned from his parents. He must have caught a cold when they had been out in the moor. On the whole commute home he felt like he was burning up and all had he wanted to had been crashing on the couch. He was sure that a good night's sleep and some anti flu meds would do the deal.

At first Molly had regarded it as a typical man flu when Greg had whined about not feeling well but now he actually looked like death warmed over.

“You sure you okay?” Molly she asked while she watched Greg poking in his dinner.

“Yeah, just don't have much appetite. I think I'm developing a cold or something. Just need a couple of hours of sleep and I'll be good as new.” He let out a cough which left him breathless for a couple of seconds. He looked up and saw Molly watching him through narrow eyes.

“I'm fine!”

“Yeah, sure you are,” she said and continued eating her meal.

 

Molly woke up in the middle of the night to Greg coughing painfully. She switched on the light and looked at him. Sweat was forming on his forehead and from the way his chest moved and how he was leaning against the headrest it looked like he head some trouble breathing.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” he wheezed.

She put her hand up to his head and it felt hot to her touch. “You're burning up Greg. You'd better call in sick and see the doctor in the morning.”

Greg groaned but agreed. He was in no condition to work.

The next morning Greg called work and told them that he wouldn't come in today and most likely the rest of the week as well. Molly was working the late shift so she was able to drive him to the doctor.

Greg registered at the reception desk and then settled in the waiting room. Even that short distance had left him utterly out of breath. Molly had suggested that he should take the wheelchair as it probably wouldn't be as exhausting as the crutches but he didn't want to. He leaned his crutches against the chair next to him. “You don't have to wait here,” he said only to be interrupted by a coughing spell. “I can phone you when I'm finished.”

“No it's fine. I like to flick through these magazines, gives me an excuse to catch up with the latest gossip. Not that I'm interested in it but...”

“Of course not.” Greg tried to laugh but it quickly turned into a cough. He pressed his hands on his chest while he tried to catch his breath.

“Chest hurts?” Molly asked.

“Yeah, a bit. You probably should stop making me laugh,” he smirked.

“I'll try my best.” Molly said and buried herself in one of the magazines.

Half an hour later a nurse entered. “Lestrayed?”

Molly chuckled slightly when she saw Greg flinching at the mispronunciation of his last name. She knew how much he hated it and sometimes used it to tease him.

“It's Lestrade,” Greg grumbled and followed the nurse to one of the examination rooms.

His Grandparents had emigrated to Great Britain from France. That was why he had a French last name. The name of his Grandfather had been 'Grégoire' and because he had died shortly before Greg's birth his parents decided to name him after him but thankfully went for the the British version 'Gregory'. Greg had explained that to Molly some time ago after she had asked him if he knew about the origin of his French sounding last name.

 

The doctor listened to his lungs and asked him about his old lung injuries and if he had any problems breathing before. He was a middle aged Indian guy and was Greg's doctor for years.

Greg told him that he had no problems with his breathing over the last months and that he only was slightly out of breath easier than before but that it was getting better with training.

“Ah yes I see. You are doing a strict routine of physical therapy. That's good. That really helps your lungs to nearly return to their old form. They won't do that fully of course, because of the scarring.”

Greg nodded. He had been told that before by doctors.

“You still smoking, Mr. Lestrade?” The doctor asked.

“I really try to quit by sometimes, when the job had been very stressful, I just need a cigarette, I know I shouldn't.” Greg admitted.

“You're right, you shouldn't. Doesn't do your lungs any good. You know that when you injure you lungs, no matter how, they get prone to infections. Viral, bacterial, whatever. Smoking doesn't help there. What you developed right now is a nice pneumonia, Mr. Lestrade.”

Greg put on his sweater back on and groaned. “A pneumonia? Really?”

“I'm afraid yes. This can be very dangerous with scarred lungs like yours but right now they seem to work fine. I'll prescribe you some antibiotics and some other medicine. You should keep bed rest for at least the next week and drink a lot of fluids. If your breathing problems or chest pains are getting worse I want you to go to the hospital straight away, okay?”

Greg nodded and got up from the stretcher. The doctor frowned at him when he noticed Lestrade's pained face and the grip to his lower back when he moved.

“Back giving you trouble?” he asked.

“Not always. But sometimes it hurts so much that I don't really dare to move. Especially after I walked for a longer time than usual.” Greg admitted. “And I feel that it is getting worse.”

“Mind if I take a look?” his doctor asked. Greg shook his head. “Go ahead.” He took off his sweater again.

“Since when are you having the pain?” the doctor asked while feeling around Greg's spine.

“There was always the odd pain every now and then but it got worse since I started walking regularly.”

The doctor nodded.”How are your legs doing?”

“The left is fine. I can move it more and more easily and put weight on it but the right still makes me problems. Still can't feel it properly and it's more of a dragging than moving when I walk. Still need a brace on it.”

“I see. As soon as you are fit again I want you to see your specialist okay? There might be another surgery necessary.”

Greg let out a frustrated groan and exited the examination room with a grumpy face. He was not going to tell Molly about the possibility of another surgery. Not until his specialist doctor had ordered it. And anyway, he was sure that he could control the pain without surgery, so no hurry to see the doctor.

“What did the doctor say?” Molly asked while helping him into his jacket.

“Pneumonia.” Greg mumbled and crutched over to the reception desk to pick up his prescriptions and sick leave note.

Molly raised both her eyebrows. “Uh, that doesn't sound good.”

“Nope.” Greg wheezed and slowly crutched towards the exit. He felt like shit and just wanted to return home. “Need to stop at the pharmacy to pick up some meds.”

“No problem.” Molly said and climbed into the car. She started the motor and lined up with the London traffic.

 

As soon as they were back home Greg changed into an old tracksuit and went for the couch.

Molly looked at him. Another coughing spell had left him breathless again.

“I'll get you some water.”

“Thanks” Greg rasped out and turned on the TV. He scrambled the blanked out from behind the couch because he suddenly felt utterly cold. “Can you make me a hotty? I'm freezing.”

“Of course.”

The next days Greg spend on the couch. He only got up to go to the toilet or to relocate to the bedroom at night.

Molly felt bad watching him struggle for breath and coughing hardly. She wished there was something else she could do for him but there wasn't. She just prayed that his body would be able to fight the pneumonia on its own and that he wouldn't have to go to the hospital for it. She knew what that would meant. Breathing mask and high duty antibiotics via IV and in the worst case scenario even intubation. And Molly knew how much Greg would hate to go through all of this again. And because of that fact he would downplay it and pretend that he was fine as long as possible. That was why Molly watched him every time she was not away at work or out with friends, looking for tale tell signs that his condition was worsening.

She breathed a secret sigh of relieve when the fever went down and Greg began feeling better.

One week later the doctor had cleared Greg fit for duty and Molly was relieved to have him out of the flat again on a regular basis. Not that she didn't mind Greg being at home all the time the problem was only that he was incredibly lazy when it came to putting the dishes in the dishwasher or putting away empty bottles. More then once the kitchen looked like a bomb had exploded in it when she returned from work and he had made lunch for himself and later dinner for both of them. Or the living room looked like a mess with tissues, cups and read magazines clattering on the table or around the couch.

 

Molly woke up when Greg's alarm bell rang. She had finally been able to sleep a night through without getting woken by Greg's coughing. She listened to him leaving the bedroom and turning on the shower in the bath. Molly opened her eyes and stretched. She had the day off and Greg was working the late shift, so they were both able to sleep in. A few minutes later he returned wearing nothing, drying his silver hair with a small towel. She looked at his well formed body. His chest hair growing into a small line towards his groin. He was doing a lot of fitness lately which was showing. His muscles were well defined but not too much. Not only did he look much younger than he actually was, he also had an incredibly good body for his age. Molly could look at him for ages. Greg smiled.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He stepped towards the bed and gave her a kiss.

“It's fine. You in a hurry?” Molly sat up and seducingly ran her hands along his hips.

He grinned at Molly, who had raised her eyebrows upon seeing his penis getting hard. “Not at all, no hurry at all.” He let his crutches fall down and clumsily climbed into the bed, pushing himself up on top of Molly. He kissed her neck. “I've always got time for that.” He breathed in her ear and slowly made his way down, his hand already in her pants. Molly breathed heavily and let out a pleasured moan when he pushed his penis insider her. With every thrust her moans got louder until first she and then Greg game, collapsing on top of her. He rolled off her and for a while they both just lay there, Greg gently stroking Molly's back. He looked at her with a strange look in his eyes.

“What?” Molly asked.

Greg shook his head. He smiled at her. “Nothing.” They continued to cuddle for a while until Greg got up and left to shower again.

Molly stayed in bed and watched him getting dressed for work. God she loved that man. She hadn't talked to anyone about it but she had daydreams in which he asked her to marry her. Molly had always dreamed of a perfect wedding, having her prefect wedding day already planned out since she was a teenager. She now was picturing Greg as the man at her side. Even though they weren't together that long she would absolutely say yes if he would pop the question. But she knew that it probably would never happen. She could sense that he still had to get over on how his last marriage had ended and that he most likely never wanted to marry again. They had never talked about that topic. Molly really wanted to ask him but never found the courage, afraid of the answer. If she didn't know she still could hope that one day he might propose to her. She also wondered what he was thinking about kids. She really wanted to have some with him. But had no idea if he wanted to have kids too. He had his sons from his previous marriage and maybe was feeling too old to raise children again. He had told her a couple of times how hard it had been to raise them while both of them had been working. And for the same reason as with the marriage she hadn't dared to bring that topic up. If not she was sure that it would be okay with her too. As long as she was with Greg she would be happy. Married, with children or non of that. At least that was what she kept telling herself.

Greg returned from the kitchen, carrying a cup of coffee. He put it on her bedside table and gave her kiss. “Enjoy your day off.”

 

* * *

 

The last weeks both Greg and Molly were rather busy with work, seeing each other only in the evenings. Finally they had a weekend together off and Molly had had planned to spend the day together, do some needed shopping and maybe having a nice dinner later. She was planning to look for some new clothes for her and Greg, especially a new suit and coat. She had no idea how he had done it but he somehow had managed to ruin his coat and one of his suits on a crime scene when he got stuck on some barb wire. She couldn't stop laughing when he had told her the story how Donovan and a new member of his team had to help him to get free.

Greg had been trying to get out of it the whole morning because he had forgotten that it was match day when he had agreed to Molly's shopping plan. He wanted to at least follow the match on TV after he had already given his season ticket to a friend knowing that there was no chance he would make it to the stadium.

“Does it really have to be today?” Greg asked.

“Yes, we've both been busy the last week and this is your first weekend off, in fact the first day we both are having off together since 3 weeks. I really want to spend the day with you. I know you hate Oxford street. We won't be there long. But you definitely need a new coat. And a new suit. After that we can stroll through Soho a bit or whatever else you fancy.”

C'mon it's an important match today and I'd really love to watch it.” The game wasn't particular important but Greg really didn't had any motivation to trade a match day for a day shopping in what was probably London's most crowded street. He was about to add something when the look Molly gave him made him shut up instantly. He knew that look and nothing good had ever come of it. If he would continue to discuss that matter it would end very nasty for him. He suppressed a sigh and got up from the couch.

 

“I thought we were here to look for some clothes for me?” Greg complained jokingly when Molly headed for an other store where he knew he wouldn't find anything for him. There were already quite a few bags with clothes for Molly in the backpack on the back of his wheelchair but only a new pair of jeans for him.

“I'll just have a quick look around and then we'll go and find a suit for you. I promise.”

“You do know that I'm perfectly fine to buy my own clothes? We can split and meet later.” Greg hated it in that store. It was utterly crowded and like everywhere on Oxford Street where the store was located he was always in someone's way or had to ask people to move so that he could pass through. If he had to name his least favourite place in London it was most certainly Oxford Street and most of it's shops. He'd still prefer walking through an dodgy council estate were everyone knew he was a copper than spending more then an hour in this hell-hole.

“No, no. I promise it won't take long.”

Greg knew what that meant and after what felt like an eternity later, he found himself with a dangerously high stack of clothes in his lap while Molly quickly made her way towards the dressing rooms. Greg let out a sigh and wheeled after her, trying not to lose anything on the way.

 

“Greg?” Molly asked peeking out from behind the curtain. “Could you get me these one size lager please? Oh and can you get me the red top one sizes smaller?”

Greg took the the mountain of clothes Molly was handing him. “Um, which one exactly?”

Molly held out a top where Greg, like with all the other clothes, had no clue where they had gotten it from. “I'll try to find it.”

He turned around and hoped for the best.

Greg was looking through a stack of t-shirts for one in Molly's size when he heard a voice behind him. “Greg?” He turned around and saw John with an equal amount of clothes over his arms.

“Oh, hey. Hi John. What a coincident. You here shopping with Mary?”

John nodded towards the changing rooms “ Yes,” he said with with an painful face. “I hate it.”

Greg nodded. “Same here. I think Molly plans to buy half the store,” he pointed to the clothes in his lap.

John laughed. “Yeah, this will probably take a while.”

“First thought about taking my crutches but then remembered how tiring and annoying shopping can be especially here on Oxford Street. Always makes me want to kill people.” Greg laughed and shifted in his wheelchair.

“Yeah, Oxford Street really is hell. Fancy a cup of coffee while Mary and Molly shop?”

“Sounds like a great idea.”

Greg brought Molly the clothes she had asked for and together with John waited until their wives where ready.

Mary was the first to emerge. “Oh hi Greg.” She greeted him with a smile. She bend down and gave him a hug. “ How are you? What are you doing here?”

Greg returned the hug. “Fine, thanks. Waiting for Molly. Ah there she is,” he nodded towards Molly who was now exiting the changing rooms. The three exchanged greetings and then John and Greg explained their idea of settling in a café off Oxford Street while Molly and Mary continue their shopping. Mary wasn't that happy arguing that she already had to share John with Sherlock and had really looked forward to have a day just for themselves and it took John some time to convince her. With Molly it was the same “We haven't seen each other much over the last weeks. I thought that this would be our day together” she complained.

“It still is. We meet when you are finished with your shopping okay? I just would really prefer to have a coffee with John right now.” He knew that he was on thin ice the whole day and as soon as he had said the last sentence he knew he fucked up. John and Mary had the decency to walk away a couple of steps and pretended to look at some clothes.

“Oh, so you're not having any fun spending a whole day with me?”

“No, you know that's not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

The truth was that he wasn't a huge friend of going shopping. Never had been. Not in overcrowded shops and when there were no men departments were he could have a look around and especially not on match days. He was fine with going to one or two stores but this was going on for a couple of hours now. Greg knew that he would dig his own grave if he would admit that he actually hadn't much fun since they had gotten out of the Tube at Westminster Station and took the bus to Oxford Circus and that he actually would have preferred to watch the football game with his mates. He was longing to check the live blog but only had been able do it when Molly was trying on clothes. He could use the coffee break with John to catch up on the game. So he tried to play the injured man card to help his cause and explained to her that his chest was hurting again a bit from the cold he had and that it was utterly exhausting for him to follow her around in this crowded store as his back was giving him trouble again and that the next one she planed to go to wouldn't be much better. Having a coffee break with John would give him new energy to shop along with her. To underline his point he coughed weakly and then gave her one of his famous puppy eye looks and charming smiles hoping that it would soften her mood.

Molly looked at him in a way that told him that she wasn't fully convinced, nor really happy.

“Okay,” she then finally said after a while. “Have your coffee with John. Or maybe better a tea to help your _cough._ Text me were you are and I'll head over when I'm finished.”

He pulled her down for a kiss which she only half-heartedly replied. “Thanks. I'll pay the dinner later to make up for it.”

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Molly said and walked over to Mary.

 

They fought their way through the crowds on Oxford Street until they found a café in one of the side streets. Greg quickly texted Molly the location and checked the score. Arsenal was loosing 0:2 to Swansea, which was something that shouldn't happen. Greg was somehow glad that he didn't watched the game in the stadium, as it would have only gotten him angry and he would have most likely be getting drunk with his mates afterwards. Not that he wouldn't be doing that when they won but being drunk and angry about a lost game always made him prone to fight with Molly, who understandably didn't liked it when he returned home drunk on match days. He always tried to sober up as much as possible during the long tube ride but mostly failed. Greg had tried to enthral her for football as well and invited her to watch a game with him at the Emirates but she just wasn't into it. Even when he showed her the movie Fever Pitch, in the hope that maybe Colin Firth or Mark Strong could awaken her interest in football, she told him that she still wasn't interested in it. So he had given it up and even though he pretended to be annoyed by it he secretly smirked over her comments about how good some of the players looked, or teasing him when they watched football together on the telly. She most likely knew that he secretly loved it and it was their little game and quite regularly ended with them having sex on the couch, the game if it was still on, completely forgotten.

He was brought out of his thoughts by John who had returned to their table.

“That whole shopping experience is something I definitely hadn't missed after my divorce,” Greg joked while taking the coffee John was handing him. He took a sip. “Ah, so much better then running around, looking for new clothes.”

“Absolutely. So how's Sherlock? Haven't seen him for a while.”

“You haven't? Thought you guys would meet up regularly, solving cases for fun and stuff.” Greg let out a small laugh.

“No. Been quite busy with work and stuff recently.”

“Oh. I haven't seen him for ages as well. Been sick and had no nerve to see him when I returned to work.”

They both looked at each other. “We probably should check on him.”

“Yep, we should.” John nodded. “Maybe we can work a case of yours together sometime soon. I kind of miss the old times, you know. Me and Sherlock running around London, you annoyed about us interfering.”

Greg laughed. “Yes, I'll let you know when I have a case where I need your help. Right now it's just cases where we pretty much already know the suspect, though I suspect that they deliberately put me on the light stuff. Hope that it'll change soon.”

“So what else is happening? You said that you were sick?”

“Yeah, pneumonia. Apparently it's quite easy to catch after a lung injury.”

John looked at Greg concerned. “It is. I hope you waited until it you were fit again before you returned to work?”

“Do you think Molly would have let me out of the house if not? I was going crazy the last days on sick leave but every time I mentioned going back to work she threatened to chain me to the bed.” Greg laughed.

“You're right,” John chuckled, “How's your walking?”

“Doing great.” He pointed at the crutches at the back of his wheelchair. “Still have to take my chair with me when I know I have to walk for longer times, like now, but I can manage most of the day without it.” Greg said with a proud smile.” Which sadly means that Molly has now found the joy in sending me down to our local Tesco's to get any items I apparently had forgot to remember her to buy when we had been out grocery shopping.”  
John laughed. “Luckily you don't have to pick up any ladies there anymore.” Hinting at a story Greg had told him in which he had tried to flirt with a woman while waiting at the self check out shortly after his divorce and had failed miserably.

“Yeah,” Greg laughed. “The distances I manage to walk are getting longer so I'm quite hopeful that in the near future I might be able to walk without any aids. The doctor said I might need another surgery because of the back pain and the problems with my right leg but I haven't told Molly yet. She's a great help and I don't want her to worry. Which brings me to something I want to talk to you about.” Greg nervously licked his lips.

“You and Mary weren't that long together before you two, you know, got engaged, were you?”

“Yes, Mary and me where together...wait a minute!” A huge smile formed on John's face. “Are you thinking about proposing to Molly? That's great news. Greg.”

“Yes, no. I mean I don't know. I want to but I don't know if she's ready. We never talked about that topic. With my first marriage we had been together for 8 years before we got married.” Greg looked around and then put his hand in one of the pockets of his jacket and got out a little box.

John's eyes grew wide. “Some time ago I passed a jeweller and saw that ring. I thought that it would be perfect for Molly. Took me 4 bloody weeks until I finally had been able to buy it. Don't ask me how often I had been standing in front of that shop, nearly going in and then turning around again. Poor guy probably thought I was planning to rob him.” He chuckled.

John laughed. “Yeah, I was nervous as hell as well. But not so much when I bought the ring, more when I actually proposed to her. Sherlock ruined that moment, though. So better watch out that he's nowhere nearby when you pop the question. So when are you going to do it?”

“I don't know. I don't know if I should at all. I mean what if she doesn't want to?”

“Greg, have you seen how she looks at you. She loves you and I'm sure you won't even be able to finish the sentence before she says yes.”

Greg smiled at John. “Thanks. You know what, I think I'll do it today. But no word to Sherlock, you understand?”

“No word to Sherlock about what?” he suddenly heard Molly asked. Greg hurriedly put away the box and turned around. Molly and Mary were walking towards their table. “Nothing, just a case I was telling John about. Found everything you were looking for?”

“Not everything but mostly, yeah. I even found you a coat. Looks like the one you owned before so I'm sure that you'll like it. Just hope that it'll fit” She pulled out a coat which looked exactly like the one Greg had owned before. Greg had been moaning for quite some time now how he missed his favourite coat. He had been wearing it when he got shot so it had been thrown away. The coat he had bought afterwards, and had ruined now too, had been okay but had a different look.

“I love it. I'll just finish my coffee and then we can go. Find somewhere nice to eat.”

“That's a great idea, I'm starving.” She turned towards John and Mary. “You guys want to join us.”

Before Mary could answer John quickly shook his head. “Sorry no, we've already got other plans.”

Mary looked at her husband. “Do we?”

“Yes we do.” John said with emphasis. He then made a movement with his hands that imitated putting a ring on a finger hoping that Molly didn't see it but she was busy putting the coat for Greg back in the shopping back.

Mary nodded knowingly looked between Greg and Molly and smiled. “Ah yes I remember.” She looked at her watch. “I think we've got to leave now, don't we John?”

Molly looked a bit puzzled but didn't say anything and after they all said goodbye to each other she and Greg made their way over to Soho to find a nice Restaurant.

“What was that all about?” Molly asked.

Greg shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. But you know those two, there is always something going on.” He pointed at a small Restaurant in a side street. “What about that one? I heard that it serves good food.”

“Yeah, why not. Let's try it.”

“bit romantic, don't you think?” Molly noticed after they had entered the Restaurant.

Greg felt his heartbeat quicken and his face becoming red. “You reckon?” He was glad when a waiter hurried towards them.

“Good evening,” a waiter greeted them looking at Molly. “How can I help, Mam?”

“Do you have a table for two available?” Molly asked.

“Yes we do. But you have to wait 20 minutes. You can have a drink at the bar until your table is ready.”

Greg looked at the bar and then at the waiter. The bar was separated from the ground floor by a couple of steps and had bar stools in front of it. “ Bit high. Is there somewhere else we could wait?”

The waiter shook his head. “No, sorry.”

“There is really no other place in here were we could wait?” Greg tried again. He hated to make a fuzz but he had no choice here. He might be able to manage the steps with his crutches but there was no way he could gracefully sit on one of this bar stools. And if they were leaving that restaurant now he would probably need another month to find the courage to propose to Molly. He could see the annoyance in the waiters face. “I'll check.”

Luckily another waiter just passed. “Table 13 is about to leave.” He then looked at Greg and Molly. “If you don't mind waiting here for a couple of minutes my colleague will get it ready for you.”

“No problem, thanks.”

A few minutes later they sat at their table and the waiter came to take their order.

Molly ordered the Salmon.

“And your...?” The waiter asked.

“My what?” Molly asked confused.

“Your friend. What does he want to order?”

“Excuse me? Why should I order for him?”

The waiter shrugged his shoulders.

“I'd like to have the Tuna please. And also a glass of the wine, thanks.” Greg said casually.

“I take it that it is your first day here and that you are not very happy with this job?” Molly asked. “Because I would recommend you to quit before you get fired.” She said while the waiter quickly wrote down their order before hurrying away.

“You're okay? We should make a complain.” Molly looked at Greg worried.

“Molly, leave it. Seriously. It's fine.”

“No it's not. He ignored you. Its rude. No it's not only rude its discriminating. He only addressed me. He made a fuss about finding somewhere else than at the bar.” Molly said.

“Thinks like these happen Molly.” Greg tried to calm her down.

“But they shouldn't. He asked me for your order for Christ's sake, Greg. I can't understand how you can stay so calm.“ Molly said angrily.

“ As a copper you are used get insulted. In one way or the other. He's an idiot, Molly but that shouldn't stop us from having a nice evening.”

“Still,” Molly said and shook her head.”

Luckily a different waiter brought their dinner and apologized for the behaviour of his colleague.

 

After they both had finished Greg leaned over and took Molly's hands in his.

“Molly, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. I know we aren't together that long. But you are the best that happened to me since a long time. I was incredibly lonely before you came into my life. I'm so grateful that you hardly left my site while I was fighting for my life in hospital even though we didn't even had our first date. I don't know if I would've made it if you hadn't been there. You spend every free minute of your time with me in hospital and in rehab. Every time I opened my eyes and you were there I knew that you were the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Waking up next to you still makes me incredibly happy. I know that I can be an idiot from time to time but,” Greg nervously pulled a small box out of his jacket and wheeled himself over to Molly's side, “Molly Hooper, do you want to be my wife?”

Tears of joy rolled down Molly's cheeks. She was completely overwhelmed and not able to form any words.

“Please, say something. The people are already staring.” Greg joked with a nervous smile. It indeed had gotten significantly quieter and the people around him were looking at them.

“Yes, Greg,” she whispered. “Yes! Of course I want to marry you.” She leaned forward, took his face in her hands and gave him a long kiss. People around them started to applaud.

With shaking hands Molly put on the engagement ring. “It's beautiful.”

A happy smile formed on Greg's face. “The moment I saw the ring I knew it would be perfect for you.”

“I love it. I fit's perfectly. Is that why one of my rings got missing recently?”

Greg looked down and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I needed to find out the right size, somehow. Blaming it on your talent for loosing things I figured was the easiest way without you noticing.”

“And it worked. What a surprise, Greg. I love you so much right now.”

“Only right now?” Greg joked.

A waiter arrived and put two glasses of champagne on the table. “On the house, “ he said. “Congratulation.”

“Thank you.” Greg raised his glass and looked Molly in the eyes. “To us. On a great future together.” He watched Molly taking a sip. “You're shaking.”

“I'm still completely overwhelmed. I would've never expected a proposal. I mean I thought about marrying you one day but I always thought that because of you being divorced and all that you wouldn't want to marry again.”

A small insecure smile crossed Greg's face. The thing with his first marriage still hurt him.

“Oh god, I'm talking rubbish again. Sorry. Ignore that. I should start thinking before talking.”

Greg leaned forward and put his hand on top of Molly's. “It's okay. That's what I love about you.”

“Shall we celebrate further at home?” Molly whispered.

“We certainly should.” Greg pushed himself a bit up so that he could be seen by a waiter to pay.

 

* * *

 

3 weeks after he and Molly got engaged they were invited to the birthday of his eldest son up in Scotland. They had both taken a couple of days off work so that they could spend some time in Edinburgh. It would be the first time Molly officially meets Greg's ex-wife as his fiancée.

They quickly checked into the Hotel and then drove to where his sons were living.

They couldn't find any parking space so Molly had to wait in the car while Greg picked up his sons for a day out.

“You're okay?” Molly asked when she noticed that Greg was chewing his lip nervously.

“Yeah, bit nervous, though. I'm really looking forward to see my sons but I'm not very keen on meeting Jane and especially Sam. God, I even hate that name.”

“I'm sure it'll be fine. And besides, the only times we'll see them for longer than a couple of minutes will be at the brunch and at the birthday party. The rest of the time we'll be out with your sons.”

“Yeah,” Greg licked his lips and opened the car door. He reached for his crutches and slowly walked up to the house. Quite nice, Greg noticed. A nurse and PE Teacher wages could definitely buy you more here than down in London.

He rang the doorbell and waited. Greg took a deep breath when he heard someone walking up to the door, steeling himself for meeting his ex-wife again.

“Hi, Greg. How are you?” Jane greeted him . She was wearing a colourful summer dress and Greg could still see why he had fell in love with her a long time ago. For her age she still had an amazing body. Which probably was the reason she had all the affairs during their marriage. He wondered if she was faithful to this PE teacher. Would serve him right if not, Greg thought and chuckled inwardly.

“Good, you?”

“Yes, where's, what was her name? Holly?”

“Molly.” He slightly rolled his eyes. “Her name is Molly. She's waiting in the car. There wasn't any parking space nearby.” Greg said and nodded towards his car.

“We got engaged a couple of weeks ago.” Greg added and watched how his ex wife faked a smile.

“You did? Congratulations. That was quick.”

“It was the right time.” He looked around, trying to find something to end the awkward pause with. “Are the boys ready?” He asked looking past Jane into the hallway.

“James! Oliver! Your father's here!” Jane shouted up the stairs.

“Coming!” Greg heard his sons shout, followed by quick steps down the stairs. A huge smile broke out on his face when James and Oliver popped up behind their mother.

“Oh! You're on crutches now? That's really cool, Dad!” James exclaimed and gave his father a big hug.

Greg tried to keep his balance.“Careful, careful. But yeah, finally graduated to crutches.”

He gave Oliver, his eldest son a hug. “Ready to show me and Molly around Edinburgh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Right, off we go then. Molly's waiting in the car. Just go ahead.”

 

They had had spent the whole day walking around and were now visiting the castle. Molly could see that Greg was in quite some pain but he tried to hide it from his sons so that they could keep going on, showing him their Edinburgh. She took his eldest to the side. “Your father is a bit in pain because of all the walking. You know how he is, he would never say anything but what do you think about finding somewhere were he could sit down? We could grab something to eat, maybe.”

Oliver looked at his Dad who was leaning against a small wall while James was talking to him. He nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He turned towards his father, “Hey Dad, you hungry? I know a good restaurant where they make mean steaks. Totally your thing.”

“Sounds great.”

They made their way to the restaurant, Oliver had talked about and Molly could see the relieve in Greg's eyes when he finally sat down.

She send him a smile and then buried herself in the menu, trying to find something that doesn't involve a ridiculous amount of meat.

 

When Greg woke up the next morning he felt an incredible pain in his lower back. Every movement send a stabbing pain through his spine. He moaned and let his head fall back onto the pillow, allowing himself to doze off while Molly was getting herself ready.

“You've got to get up or we're going to be late.” Molly said after she had exited the bathroom of their hotel room and found Greg still in bed. They had agreed to meet Jane and Sam for brunch before the birthday party to talk about Molly's and his planed holiday in Spain with his sons.

“Don't want to.” Despite the pain he turned his back towards her, burring his head into the pillow.

Molly rolled her eyes and let out an annoyed sigh.

““And why's that now?” She asked but Greg refused to answer. She knew that all of this wasn't easy for Greg and she did everything to support him the best she could but she really had hoped that phases like this had been over. She remembered just too well the times when Greg had still been in hospital and he had one of his regular mood swings. They were especially bad when he had still been on the ventilator and hadn't been able to talk. Sometimes when she had entered his room she could just see from his eyes that it would be a very one sided conversation even when he had been perfectly able to write. They had gotten less with time and over the last year she had done her best to help him through his depressive phases with being kind and understanding most of the times but sometimes he just needed a good kick in the arse to get him back on track.

“You know that you do have to talk to me. Otherwise I can't help you.”

“Back hurts again.”

“Bad?”

She only got a half hearted shrug as a reply. “ Had been a bit too much yesterday, hasn't it? Take some painkillers then.”

“Still won't be able to take the crutches,” he mumbled in his pillow.

“So what? We took your wheelchair with us for situations like this.”

Greg turned his head and looked at her. “I don't want to take the chair. Too embarrassing.”

Molly walked over and sat down next to Greg, gently massaging his lower back to help easing the pain. “Don't be stupid, Greg. Why on earth is that suddenly embarrassing for you?”

“Because my walking had improved so much. I nearly didn't need that thing over the last weeks. I don't want to be dependent on it again. Plus Sam is a bloody PE teacher. You saw him. He's tall, young, fit and arrogant. He knows that Jane had started to go out with him because she didn't find me attractive anymore.”

“I'm sure that this isn't true.” Then something dawned to her. “Is that why you had started loosing weight after the Christmas party at Sherlock?”

Greg nodded. He had tried, more or less successful. “Yeah, I had put up too much weight. Wasn't attractive anymore. Still won't while I'm in that chair.”

“Oh, Greg.” Molly leaned forward and gave Greg a soft kiss on the back of his neck. “ You know that this isn't true. We talked about this many times. You are the most attractive man I ever met. Do you know how many of my friends think you're hot? Not to speak of all the other women when we go out. I really have to fend them off and I don't need any more waiting in line, hoping that you would ditch me for one of them.”

Greg let out a soft chuckle. “As if.” He pushed himself up a bit and looked at her. Even though he was smiling now there was a hint of sadness evident in his eyes.

“And besides. What do you care what they think?” Molly looked at him seriously.

“I don't know. I mean if you see one of your exes don't you want to look as good as possible to show them how good you are doing with out them. I guess it doesn't matter how old you are it is always like back when you were a teenager.”

“That's not what it really is about, is it?” Molly asked and watched Greg shaking his head.

“What if it stays like this? The pain. Making it impossible for me to walk. What if I'll always be needing the crutches?”

“I know that it won't be easy then but I'm sure we'll manage. I'll be there to help you and I know that you will hate it at first but I'm sure that you'll settle into the nice cosy desk-job you'll have at the yard. And I won't have to worry about you getting hurt again when you try to keep up with John and Sherlock.”

Greg let out a mixture of a grunt and a laugh and Molly stopped her massage and gently gave him a slap on the but. “Feeling better now?”

Greg turned his head. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks for the massage.”

 

An hour later they finally arrived

Greg saw how Sam looked at him. Saw the pity in his eyes, as well as in the eyes of his ex-wife. He ignored it and pushed his wheelchair forward. When they had reached them he held his hand out. “Hello.” Sam shook his hand and Greg noticed that he didn't put much pressure into his handshake. As if he was fragile just because he was sitting in a wheelchair. Greg then then introduced Molly and instantly saw in the body language of his ex-wife that she didn't her like. Most likely because Molly was much younger then her. Greg had to suppress a victorious smile. “Shall we?” He nodded towards the door of the restaurant.

“So you're planning to take James and Oliver with you on vacation?” Jane asked after they had settled at a table.

“Yes. Greg had the idea of us two going on holiday together and then we thought that it would be great if James and Oliver could join us for a week.”

“Do I get it right. You want them to fly alone to Spain and then meet you there? “

Greg nodded. “That was the plan, yes.” He heard how Sam sucked in some air disapprovingly causing him to shoot him a look he normally had reserved for criminals. “Wha'? What's your problem with it?”

“You said you only get time off in their first week of school holidays, well that's normally the time were I...”

“They aren't your sons, are they?” Greg interrupted him angry. He felt how Molly laid her hand on his arm to calm him down. He ignored it and pointed his finger at Sam “You have no right to tell me when I can see my children and when not. No right at all, you understand?” God he hated that man.

“I'm sure we'll find a way to make this work.” Jane tried to intervene.

“Not with his attitude,” Sam snorted.

“Excuse me?” Greg pushed himself up and leaned over the table. He felt his arms shake and had to retain himself to not grab Sam by his collar and head-but him straight in the face. He knew that it wasn't a adequate reaction for a man his age, especially as a DI, but he was seriously considering it. “What's your fucking problem?”

“You come here and demand that we change our plans for the holidays.”

“Yes, because they are _my_ children!

“They are also Jane's.”

“I fucking know that. Guess what – I was there when they were born. “ Greg was about to loose his temper. One more word and he would punch him.

“Let's all calm down okay,” Molly said and gently laid a hand on Greg's shoulder. The people around them already started to stare.

Greg took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his arms in front of him and looked between his ex-wife and Sam.

“So it's just about the timing?” Molly asked.

“I'm not really happy about the two of them flying over alone.” Jane admitted. “The time is okay, I guess.” She turned towards Sam “You've got the whole holidays off. We can do our trip any other time but it might be Greg's only chance for a holiday with James and Oliver this year. ”

Sam didn't look happy but he kept quiet.

“I'm sure that they'll be fine.” Molly said. “It's just a 3 hours flight and we will pick them up right at the airport.”

It took them a bit of persuading but finally Jane and Sam agreed to it.

“God, I could really use a pint right now.” Greg sighed after the four of them had parted.

“Want to look for a pub?”

“If you don't mind?” Thanks to the pain in his back and Edinburgh's steep heels and coddle-stone streets Molly had to push him from time to time.

“Not at all, I fancy a pint as well” Molly said an grabbed the handles of his wheelchair.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The weeks after their trip Greg was in constant pain. He had tried to ignore it as much as he could but after a while Molly had enough and had dragged him to his doctor to get it checked out. From the noise Greg had made in the hallway when he returned she could sense that the appointment didn't really went to the satisfaction of Greg.

Greg let himself fall onto the couch and let out a sad sigh.

“So what did the doctor say?” Molly asked and sat down next to Greg.

He looked at her with a mixture of sadness and annoyance in his face. “He said that I need another surgery on my spine. It hadn't healed as well as they had hoped. That's why I'm having these really bad pains when I'm walking longer distances. Now they want to operate on it with the hope that it'll reduce the pain and that it'll bring full feeling and movement back to my legs. But who can guaranty that it'll work?”

“I'm sure it will,” Molly said and pulled Greg into a hug. She knew that this were devastating news for him. He had done so well over the last couple of month, had fought through the pain in his back to improve his walking and now he was facing another surgery, which will put him back in his recovery.

Greg had laid his head on her shoulder. “That's not fair.”

Molly ran her hand through his hair. “I know it isn't but we will pull through it together. Did the doctor say anything about when they plan to do the surgery?”

“As soon as possible. Preferably in the next weeks. I'll talk to my boss tomorrow about the time I have to take off work after it.” Greg let out a frustrated groan and ran his hands over his face. “Bloody annoying.”

“I told you that you were overdoing it.” Molly thought but didn't say it out loud. It would just trigger a fight. During the last month Greg had spent nearly every free minute either at rehab or, when he hadn't any sessions, at the gym. She knew that he was doing exercises there that weren't really helping his recovery but every time she mentioned it Greg has blocked it off and denied it. The doctors had told him to slowly increase his walking and that he should stop when the pain was getting worse but Greg being Greg hadn't listen. The trip to his sons had taken it's toll. He had walked more than he was supposed to and had been in constant pain ever since. He had kept quiet until Molly finally found out about the talk he had with his doctor when he had been there because of the pneumonia and dragged him to his specialist to get him checked.

“Well at least we'll have more time together then,” he smirked.

“Yeah, you lying on the couch going “Molly could you get me this, Molly could you get me that.” She laughed and playfully boxed him.

“And I'll enjoy every minute of it.” Greg laughed.

 

* * *

 

“2 days in hospital, 4 weeks at home and at least another 3 month desk duty.” The doctor told Greg upon his question about his recovery time.

“Great, the recovery falls into the time of the holidays with my sons.” Greg said annoyed when the doctor told him his post op plan.

“Am I allowed to go on vacation? Flying and all that stuff?”

“I'm sure that it'll be all fine, won't it?” Molly tried to calm him, looking at his doctor for approval.

“As long as you don't plan any hiking or any other activities I can't see any problems. I want you to start walking as soon as possible after the surgery anyway but I want you to take it slow, okay?”

Greg nodded dutifully and watched the nurse giving him the sedatives through the IV port in his hand. He saw Molly leaning over him, giving him a kiss.

“Right, Greg. I'm off. Good luck. I'll see you after the surgery.”

He gave a slight wave as goodbye before the drug pulled him into a deep sleep.

 

 

Greg woke up to the familiar noises and smell of a hospital. That and an incredible pain in his back.

He opened his eyes and had to blink a couple of times to clear his vision. He saw Molly sitting next to his bed. Greg frowned. He had told Molly that she shouldn't wait for him to wake up.

“Hey,” he croaked. His throat utterly dry.

“Hey honey.” Molly smiled and took his hand. “You're thirsty?”

Greg nodded and tried to sit up to be easier able to drink from the glass with a straw Molly was holding for him. He frowned when he found his movement restricted.

“Yeah, that's the back brace. That's gotta stay on for a while I'm afraid. Helping your bones to heal.”

Greg was too tired to be annoyed by it right now. He took a couple of sips and let out a pleasured sound when he felt the cool water soothing his throat. “Told you you shouldn't wait.”

“I didn't, stupid. You know what time it is? It's 7 in the evening. I came here 10 minutes ago from work. Apparently you woke up a couple of times but went back to sleep again.”

“Oh!” He thought for a moment. The sedatives still messing with his mind. “So surgery went well?”

“Yes, everything went as planned.”

“Legs?”

“The doctors are sure that in a couple of month you will be up and about like before the injury.”

“Good.” Greg closed his eyes. He still felt utterly tired and could have fallen asleep again if it wasn't for the pain that kept bothering him. He involuntarily let out a small moan.

“You okay?” Molly asked concerned.

“Back's killing me. Thought it was supposed to get better.”

“That might take a while.” Molly said and got up to get a nurse.

While Greg waited for Molly and the nurse to come back he carefully tested if he could move his legs. It had been his greatest fear that something would go wrong and he would become completely paralysed. He was relieved when he found that he could move both of them .

“How are you doing Mr. Lestrade?” The nurse greeted him.

“Okay, back hurts. About an 8.” He had spent enough time in hospitals to know what nurses wanted to hear.

“Don't worry, I'll change the dose of your painkillers so that you feel comfortable.”

“Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

 

2 days after surgery Greg had finally been discharged. He had started walking again at the hospital and when his doctor was satisfied with the healing of the incisions and Greg's mobility he had given his Ok.

Like predicted Greg spend most of the first days at home on the couch. After a while he got more and more mobile but still tried to find excuses when Molly asked him for some help.

He was now 4 weeks post op and in 3 weeks he and Molly would go on holidays. He finally had gotten rid of the hated back brace which had prevented him from bending his back and had been more annoying than helpful in Greg's opinion.

Right now he had managed to talk her into making him a cuppa.

“Don't get used to it. I heard the doctor say that you should continue all your usual household duties as soon as possible.”

“No you must have miss heard that. He said that it would only delay me recovery. He strictly ordered you to spoil me.”

“You wish. Now get your ass up off the couch and help me with the dinner.”

Greg grumbled and got up. Since the surgery his walking had really improved. He had full movement and feeling back in his left leg and now only needed one crutch for his right leg which still gave him problems but was getting better with time. He took his crutch and walked over to Molly. He slung his arm around her and laid his head on her shoulder. “What's for dinner then?”

“Ratatouille”

“You know maybe we skip dinner and relocate to the bedroom. It's been a long time since, you know.” He gently rocked her.

Molly turned around. “You sure?” The last time they tried to have sex after the surgery they had to stop after a couple of minutes because Greg had been in too much pain.

“Oh I'm very sure,” he whispered and seducingly ran his hand through her hair.

 

 

* * *

 

Molly looked at Greg, lying on the sun chair next to her. He was wearing one of the board shorts he had newly bought for this holiday and his ray ban new wayfarer sunglasses. Since he had been on sick leave he had grown a slight beard again, the silver stubbles standing out against his nicely tanned skin. It was their second week and his sons were here since 3 days. Soon they all had to return to England again. They had a great time so far. The second week they used to explore the towns around their hotel with his sons. Being teenage boys they weren't really into lying on the beach all day and needed something to do but he first week Molly and Greg had spend mostly at the beach, moving only to the bar or the restaurant.

The first days on their holidays Greg hadn't felt very comfortable taking his shirt off on the beach. The incision from his recent surgery still stood out pink against his skin and even though his other scars had faded with the time he felt that they were still too much visible for his liking. He had been fine with wearing a shirt or a tank top while lying on his sun chair the whole day watching the people. But Molly had been able to convince him that it was nothing he should be ashamed of.

Right now he was arguing with his son who wanted him to join him in the water. He had been dozing before and wasn't really keen on moving at all.

“Oh come on dad, please. I'm bored. Oliver only has eyes for that stupid girl.”

Greg groaned inwardly. He sat up and looked at his youngest. “What girl?”

James pointed over to where Oliver was flirting with a girl around his age. Greg smiled. His eldest was very much like he had been during that age. Chatting up girls on every possibility until he had met their mother and settled down.

“Right, okay then. But only if the water isn't too cold.”

“No it's lovely. I promise.”

“Alright.” Greg got up from his sun chair felt like everybody was watching him when he took off his shirt and leaned on Molly to walk in the water. James was already in the sea waiting eagerly for him. He was floating on an inflatable mattress. “You sure it's not cold?” Greg asked.  
“Nah, just perfect. Just go straight in and you'll be fine.”

He had seen the look James and Molly had exchanged so he rightly was a bit suspicious when he walked into the water.

“Bloody hell, not cold my arse. It's bloody freezing.” Greg cursed while Molly let him further in.

“It's not cold.”

“'It is. Even my numb leg is feeling the cold.”

“It's refreshing. You're just heated up by the sun.”

Greg finally had reached a depth where he could let go off Molly. “So why are you lying on top of that mattress and not in the water?” Despite the cold he dived down and took a couple of strokes underwater until he was under James' mattress. He quickly swam upwards pushing the mattress over. James screamed but was able to cling to the mattress. Greg laughed and started a second attempt.

“Dad, no!” James shouted and tried to paddle away but he wasn't quick enough. In rehab Greg was doing a lot of swimming and had gained a remarkable pace. Greg grabbed the site of the mattress and turned it over.

“Why are you complaining. I thought the water was warm,” Greg laughed and tried to escape an retaliation attempt of his son but this time he was too slow. The pursuit of his youngest son had brought them into deeper water where Greg wasn't able to stand anymore and he hadn't noticed that Oliver had also decided to join them in the water. James and Oliver quickly seized their chance and either took a shoulder of their father and dunked him down. Greg came back up spitting water. He lunged himself at his oldest who unlike his younger brother hadn't retreated to a save distance and now was water treading next to him. “James, help me!” Oliver shouted and splashed with water to keep his father on distance.

“Oh look. If it comes to tease your father you are able to leave that young lady of yours.” Greg said smirking.

“Nah, she had to meet with her parents. But teasing you is a huge plus.” Oliver laughed and threw himself on top of his father.

“Carefully boys.” Molly reminded them, still worried about Greg re-injuring his back after the surgery.

“It's fine Molly. Back's all good. Could use a little help here, though.” Greg said while trying to fight off his sons who again had ganged up against him.

“I prefer to be a neutral observer.” Molly said and leaned onto the mattress she was now holding. She really liked his sons and she knew that they also liked her but she always felt a bit weird when she interacted with them. They had been staying with them over the Christmas holidays and there had been moments when they had let Molly known that she wasn't their mother when she had asked them to do things they weren't really fond of doing or had to forbid them things they wanted to do. She knew that they didn't meant the things they said in the heat of an argument but as she never had kids before she hadn't really known how to handle two boys in their puberty and had mostly relied on Greg to handle these situations.

She watched Greg playing with his boys in the water. All of them looked incredibly happy. Molly smiled. She knew how much he missed his sons and she was looking forward to someday having her own children with Greg. She still didn't know if Greg wanted to have kids again but they soon maybe had to face that topic. Since a couple of weeks her period was overdue, something that hadn't happened to her for years now. First she hadn't wasted any thoughts about that but now she started to become worried. When they had been to town earlier this week she had been able to separate herself for a couple of minutes and bought a pregnancy test in a pharmacy. She hadn't done it yet but planed to do it this evening. And she wanted to wait what the test said before she talked to Greg about it.

 

* * *

 

 

Greg stood in front of the toilet, peeing. He let out a deep sigh. Molly had been a bit odd the last days and he was still trying to figure out what was wrong. Something in the trash can next to the toilet caught his eyes. He zipped up his pants and picket the object up. Greg's stomach dropped when he saw what it was. I pregnancy test. Positive. He took a step back. Suddenly he felt the urgent need to sit down. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bathtub and ran his hands over his face. “Shit,” he whispered. Molly was pregnant and just a couple of hours ago he had been going on about how glad he was that he was done with raising kids. God he was an idiot. Molly had grown suspiciously quiet but he hadn't noticed it at that time. He had kept going on. Being an egoistic idiot not thinking about the fact that his future wife might want to have children of her own.

He looked at the stick in his hand. Molly was pregnant. With his child. And suddenly he didn't mind going through all of the troubles kids brought with them again. Not with Molly at his side. He wanted them to become a family.

He exited the bathroom and walked out of the balcony. He sat down in his chair, next to Molly's and took a deep breath. “Look, Molly. I'm sorry.”

Molly looked at him. “What for?”

“For being an idiot earlier. I found the pregnancy test it the bathroom.” He noticed how Molly tensed.

“I'm sorry. I should have told you. I just didn't know what to do.” She asked with a shaking voice. “I thought... I mean you already have kids and... you know...I thought that you don't...”

“Molly, listen,” he interrupted her. “As I said. I'm an idiot. But you know what? I can't wait to be an idiotic father again. I'm really really happy.”

“You are?”

“Absolutely. Why shouldn't I? We are having a baby together Molly.” He laughed. “That's fucking amazing.”

Greg got up and pulled Molly into a hug. “I love you Molly. I can't wait for us to have kids of our own.”

 

THE END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	17. Epilogue

**5 months later:**

 

“Right Mr. Lestrade. I want you to now take both arms of the bars and slowly walk towards me.”  
Greg looked at his physical therapy instructor sceptically but did as he was told. He shifted his weight onto his right leg and let go.  
“Weight on both legs!”  
Greg swayed dangerously but managed to stay upright, his hands hovering over the parallel bars, ready to grip them for dear life should he threaten to fall.  
“Good, now try to walk without touching the bars for support.”  
Greg walked. It was very shaky and during the first steps he actually had to touch the bars to not fall over but it got better with every step he took. A huge smile crossed his face and after he finally reached the end of the parallel bars he burst out into a loud laugh.  
“I'm walking. I can't believe it. It's been over 2 fucking years since the injury and finally I am able to walk without any bloody support.“  
His therapist smiled at him. “You fought a lot to get here. Try to walk as much as possible without the crutch to train your leg. Just a couple of more sessions needed to build up muscles and I'm sure that you'll be cleared for active duty in a couple of months.”  
  
Greg was relaxing on the couch reading a newspaper when Molly came home from work.  
“Hey, how was your day?” Greg greeted her.  
“Exhausting. The pregnancy is really taking its toll.”  
“I can imagine. Only 4 more months.” Since a couple of weeks he had to tiptoe around the flat as Molly had gotten easily irritated and it was getting worse the closer she came to giving birth. “Come here, I want to show you something.” Greg said and moved towards the end of the couch. “Give me your hands.”  
Molly looked a bit puzzled but complied. He slowly got up, leaning on Molly. He swayed a bit but managed to stay upright. “Right, you can let go now.”  
Molly stepped backed and watched eager. Greg took a few steps, the first ones were a bit shakily but got more and more steady. The concentrated look on his face was replaced by a huge smile. “See? Awesome, innit?”  
“Absolutely!”  
He walked up to Molly and laid his hand on her pregnant belly. “When our daughter is born I'll be able to fool around with her.” He gave her a kiss and slowly turned around to walk back towards the couch. He leaned onto the coffee table to sit down. “Worked on it the last weeks in PT. Today I got the all clear to walk without the crutch. He said in a month or so I could be cleared for active duty.”  
“That's great news, Greg. That are really great news.”

 

 

**9 months later:**  
  


Greg ran through the halls of the hospital. He had been out on a case when he got the call from Molly. He finally reached the maternity ward. “Molly Hopper?” He asked the nurse at the reception desk breathless. The nurse typed something into the computer and after what seemed like an eternity for Greg she finally told him the room number.  
“Thanks.” Greg said and sprinted in the direction the nurse was pointing. He nearly ran past the door and allowed himself a couple of minutes to collect himself before he entered.  
“Hey, how are you?”  
“In fucking pain.” Molly groaned who was having contractions again. “Where've you been? It's been over two hours!”  
“I was at an arrest down in Croydon. I came here as soon as Sally and me had the guy secured. Traffic was hell. Sorry.” He took her hand and looked at her apologetic.  
“It's okay. You're here now.”

It took 7 hours until their child was finally born. 7 hours where he thought that his hand would be crushed every time Molly squeezed it. But he didn't mind because now he was standing next to Molly's bed, holding their daughter. He had never thought he would feel that happy again. He looked at Molly who was smiling at him. "We're a family now."


End file.
